Whack to the Future
by CoyoteLoon
Summary: Jenny is convinced that her hopelessly out-of-date mother has no idea what it's like to be a modern teenager. But one unplanned trip with Mrs. Wakeman's new time machine could change things - and not necessarily for the better. (complete)
1. Tuck Everlasting

All characters from "My Life as a Teenage Robot" are property of Rob Renzetti, Frederator, Nickelodeon – in other words, not me.  My sole creation is the character of Drew, a human high school student who was turned into an shape-shifting android by Cluster nanotechnology (see my first story, "Android Scam").  To everyone who has ever left a review, a zillion thank-yous.  You are the refill for my motivation tank; without ya, I'd be curled up in the fetal position, sucking my thumb.  Or something like that.

So here's another light 'n' fun story – not the most original plot, but too fun not to write.  Perhaps even a touch of _unexpected_ fluff.  Updating will probably be less regular on this one.  What can I say?  It's nice outside.  The first chapter is a bit longer than normal; sorry, it's necessary to set up some plot elements.

One further note: I had to make several assumptions to make this story work, some of which may seem like a bit of a stretch.  It's likely that future episodes of MLaaTR will contain new facts that contradict me.  Nothing I can do about that.  Nit-pickers will be given atomic wedgies.  All I ask is for you to give me a little artistic license – it's all in good fun, and hopefully, everything will make perfect sense …

_… in the course of time_ …

Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  Tick.  Tock.  (fade in sounds of dozens of clocks ticking …)

* * *

WHACK TO THE FUTURE

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter One – Tuck Everlasting

* * *

Mrs. Wakeman toke note of the time on her stopwatch, and scribbled intensely on her clipboard.  She was eager to get the next round of tests started, with an excitement that only a scientist could feel for such a thing.  With a few taps of her fingers, she called up a set of design schematics on her desktop computer terminal.  They were for a very simple communications dish – but the interesting thing wasn't how the new dish was going to _work_.  It was how the new dish was going to be _built_.

"Anytime you are ready, Andrew," she instructed.  "This should be most interesting!"

"I'll try not to disappoint you, Doc."  Drew stared at the electronic display, and could feel his mind digesting the raw engineering data.  It felt a little weird; the information was being saved in his memory, yet he wasn't completely _understanding_ it.  The important thing was that his operating system knew what it was doing.  It crunched the data, and sent out billions of instructions in under a second.

A shimmer of silver-green rolled along his left arm.  His hand warbled momentarily, like a blob of mercury, and then started to expand with a soft _schweerrrp_.  In a little under three seconds, Drew's hand morphed into a two-foot wide communications dish, chattering away silently.

"Reading you loud and clear," said Jenny.  The teenage super-robot had unfolded one of her pigtails into a parabolic dish of her own, and pointed it at her android friend from the other side of her mother's laboratory.  Drew and Jenny were carrying on a private little conversation, talking at thirty gigahertz.  Jenny grinned, and then started to snicker uncontrollably.

"XJ-9!" barked Mrs. Wakeman.  "Please focus, and give me the signal strength readings!"

"Ha, ha, ha … it's not my fault!" gasped Jenny.  "Drew made me laugh!"

Drew grinned.  "Scientific history!  The first knock-knock joke ever told in binary language."

"I finally have someone to talk to in _binary_!" Jenny smiled back.  "Your accent's pretty bad, though."

"When you two vaudevillians get a free moment," huffed the doctor, "do you think you might possibly give out some electromagnetic signal strength readings?  Just to _humor_ me?!?"

"Doc, lighten up a little!" laughed Drew.  "The dish works great!  We're just having a little fun."

"There are more important things in life than _fun_," she snorted.

"Oh, boy.  You might as well stop right now, Drew," groaned Jenny.  She folded her arms with a heavy _sigh_ – her mother was in full-bore scientist mode right now.  "I've heard _this_ speech a hundred times before.  When my mom's in the lab, everything's got to be super-serious.  She turns _everything_ into a crisis of galactic proportions."

Her mother planted her fists on her hips.  "Well, _one_ of has to be serious, young lady.  If you would only perform your lab chores with the same devotion you give to telephone gossip …"

Thankfully, they were interrupted by a loud knock at the front door.  Drew still felt pretty jazzed, with all the new tricks that Dr. Wakeman had taught him that afternoon.  The communications dish at the end of his arm shimmered, and flattened out into a thin, flat panel.  Then the index finger of his right hand started to stretch, longer and longer, until it had snaked its way over to the window.  He pointed it towards the front door.  A brief kaleidoscope of color danced across the panel, and then it came to life as a video screen, showing a picture of Brad and Tuck standing in front of the house.

Jenny excitedly let the neighbor boys in the house, as Mrs. Wakeman sighed in frustration.  "Wonderful.  That's all I need, two more of the Marx Brothers."

"Hey there, Jen!  Mrs. W!  Brought your mail in for you."  Brad ambled into the living room holding a handful of letters, and the latest issue of _Time_ Magazine.  Then he gestured to Drew's video-screen.  "Hey, Drew – aw, man, sweet!  Since when have you been able to do that?"

"Just learned to do it today," he beamed proudly.  "I can make a cell phone, a computer terminal … even had x-ray vision working for a few seconds.  Next Super Bowl, I can _be_ the big-screen TV!  My nanobots can make themselves into almost anything electronic … as long as it doesn't have moving parts."

"Yet there is no scientific explanation for _why_ you cannot make moving parts," interrupted Mrs. Wakeman.  "So I can only assume it is a skill you will eventually acquire … with sufficient _practice_."

"_Practice?_" whined Drew.  "Come on, Doc.  We've been at it all afternoon.  It's almost five o'clock!"

"And the late matinee at the theater starts at six o'clock," Brad interjected.  "Jen, I was thinking you might like to go see a movie.  You know that one you were talking about in class yesterday?"

Jenny's face broke into a wide smile.  "'Summer of the Dancing Moonlight'?  Oh, wow, I've been really wanting to see that one!  Brad, I'd love to go!"

Tuck rolled his eyes in a knowing manner.  "Uh-huh, yeah, _right_ … sounds like a real action thriller."

Drew raised his hand to his nose, as if he were about to sneeze.  "Ah … ahh … ahh … _chickflick_."  Tuck started making _mwa-mwa-mwa_ kissing noises, and soon they were both laughing themselves silly, ducking the rolled-up magazine that Brad swung at them.

"Will you all please settle down!" shouted Mrs. Wakeman, once again frustrated at the injection of chaos into her ordered workspace.  "This is a scientific laboratory, not a rumpus room!  And XJ-9, before you head off to watch some addle-minded, overemotional brain porridge at the cinema, aren't you forgetting about something?  Hmmm?  Something you promised to help me with?"

Jenny slapped her forehead.  "Aw, Mom … you're not serious."

"I am _always_ serious.  In fact, I'm 'super-serious'.  You just said so yourself, remember?"

"Who in the world does scientific experiments on a Saturday night?" she protested.  "Besides nerds and losers and geeks.  Er, uh … and _you_.  Mom, regular teenagers go _out_ on Saturday night!"

The doctor groaned.  "I asked you earlier today if you had any plans for tonight, and you said no.  I need your assistance for an extremely important series of tests here in the lab – tests which could prove to be of monumental importance to your crime-fighting activities!"

"Sure, whatever … but now I _have_ plans for tonight, see?"

Mrs. Wakeman was getting dangerously close to a lecture.  "What is so special about Saturday night, anyway?  Saturday is just another day on the calendar.  There is nothing that can be done at ten o'clock on a Wednesday that cannot be done at five o'clock on a Saturday.  It's not like adolescents don't have six other days of the week to behave like barely-civilized hooligans!"

Brad sensed the tension rising as Jenny and her mother glared at each other, and tried to conjure up some quick diplomacy.  "Come on, Mrs. Wakeman.  It's been a long week; everybody takes Saturday off to relax and have some fun.  It's a break from the pressure of high school."

"_Pressure?_  Horsefeathers!" she huffed, folding her arms.  Jenny rolled her eyes in agony – _great, here we go_ – as her mother went into a rant.  "You don't know the meaning of the word.  Just wait until you have to work for a living!  High school is a non-stop party compared to that.  You should be trying to make productive use of your free time!  Why, when I was your age, young lady, I didn't waste my leisure time 'hanging out', or running willy-nilly after boys down at the shopping complex.  Not at all!  We had to work hard to meet the challenges of a new millennium – to ensure we would have promising futures!  We certainly didn't have all of the modern conveniences that you spoiled children enjoy today."

"Right, Mom," groaned Jenny, "you walked ten miles to school, in the snow, uphill, both ways."

"I'm simply saying that being young is no excuse for being _irresponsible_.  You have your futures to consider, and your actions now could determine the course of your entire lives.  After all, study and hard work is what made me a successful scientist today."  She smirked with a motherly expression.  "If I had behaved irresponsibly when I was your age, XJ-9, _you_ wouldn't be here today.  And …"

She walked over to the far end of her lab.  "… neither would _this_."

Piles of equipment and half-finished projects had been pushed aside to make room for a large object, about the size and shape of a barrel, covered in a white dropsheet.  Mrs. Wakeman patted the white cover with a contented smile on her face.  "The Continuum Vortex Generator!  If tonight's tests prove successful, then this evening will go down as watershed moment in the history of science!  I cannot imagine anything happening in some dark movie theater that would be more exciting than this."

"Gee, now why doesn't _that_ surprise me," Jenny muttered under her breath.  Brad fought to keep his laughter in check.

"So what does it do?" asked Tuck, inspecting the cloth-covered mystery object.

"You will all find out, in due _time_," answered the doctor, chuckling to herself for some reason.  "It does not have its power source installed yet.  That should be arriving any time now, and once it does, we'll have things up and running in short order."

And as if on cue, they heard the sound of a large vehicle turning off of the street, and easing its way into the driveway of the Wakeman residence.  Drew glanced out of the large living room windows.  "Hey, Doc, there's a big white truck out there … from the University of Tremorton Physics Department."

"From the University?  Oh, goody!"  Mrs. Wakeman herded them all towards the front door.  "Everybody outside!  Come on, now!  XJ-9, Andrew, if you both help, this will all go much quicker."

The five of them spilled outside, towards the white three-axle truck.  Two elderly gentleman emerged from the cab, wearing white lab coats and rubber gloves; one was short, stocky with brown hair, the other was tall and gangly, with an unruly mop of gray.  Mrs. Wakeman obviously knew them, and rushed over excitedly to discuss the evening's agenda.  That left four unimpressed young people to mingle on the front lawn, wondering what could have the old folks so worked up.

"Sorry Jen, looks like we'll have to take a rain check on that movie," Brad said, flipping through the pages of the magazine.  "You have any idea what this is all about?"

"Nope.  Whatever it is, I'm sure it's going to be majorly boring."  She folded her arms and pouted, mocking her mother's voice.  "'When I was your age, young lady!'  When she was my age, she probably took a horse and buggy to school.  I don't think she ever _was_ my age.  She probably hatched right out of the pod, just like she is."

Drew burst out in a chuckle.  "Come on, Jenny.  So your mom's a little old-fashioned.  Mine is too."

"A _little_ old-fashioned?"  Jenny lowered her voice to a loud whisper.  "Do you guys have any idea how _old_ my mom is?  My mom is older than most people's _grandmothers_.  She's eighty-five years old."

"EIGHTY-FIVE YEA…" Tuck managed to scream, before Brad slapped his hand over his mouth.

"Well, um … eighty-five isn't that old anymore," said Brad, trying to lessen Jenny's embarrassment.  "Heck, with modern medicine, lots of people live to be really old!  My great-grandma is 105, and she plays tennis every day.  Look at the old woman in this magazine story!"

Jenny glanced at the photo of the silver-haired woman.  "'Election 2074 coverage – Senator Clinton Under Fire.  Just weeks after her 96th birthday, veteran senator Chelsea Clinton faces her greatest challenge … '  Blah, blah, blah.  So my mom's not as old as some windbag politician."

Drew glanced over at Dr. Wakeman.  "You know, Jen, this is going to sound nuts, but your mom looks awfully good for eighty-five.  I mean, she's not wrinkled up, sitting in a wheelchair or anything."

"I know," sighed Jenny, "like Brad said, people live longer nowadays.  Mom has another professor friend at the university who's still teaching classes, and he's 126 years old.  He came over for a visit last month.  Oh yeah, let me tell you … _that_ was a fun evening."

"Hey, check it out," shouted Brad, tapping at the magazine.  "It's a story about you, Jenny!  'Titanium Teen Topples Terrorists'.  It's all about when you saved that space station last week!"

"Huh!  Lemme see."  Jenny quickly scanned the story, which was mostly positive …

Then winced as her mother's voice shouted to her from the driveway.  "XJ-9!  There are two gentlemen here I'd like you to meet!"

With her friends in tow, she dragged her feet over to the big white truck, and tried to put a polite smile on her face.  As she looked at the two old men, Jenny suddenly realized that she knew one of them – the short fellow with the dark, ragged beard and round glasses.

Mrs. Wakeman presented her daughter.  "XJ-9, you remember Dr. Phinneas Mogg, don't you?"

She fought the urge to give him a nasty look.  What was it he'd said … '_How did you manage to program so many defects into only one automaton?'  Grrrr … _ "Sure, I remember Dr. Mogg.  From the trade show.  You're one of my mom's old classmates, aren't you?"

Dr. Mogg adjusted his glasses with a snicker.  "Quite right.  So, Nora … it's still calling you 'Mom'?"

But before Jenny could get too upset, the tall fellow shot out his thin hand with a big smile.  "Actually, I'm one of your mother's old classmates as well.  Amazing!  Simply amazing!  Miss XJ-9, I've been waiting to meet you for a long time.  Quite a remarkable young girl you have there, Nora."

Jenny gave him her best charming smile.  "Thank you very much … um …"

"Dr. Sherman Lee," he grinned.  "I believe you go to high school with my grandson."

"Really?  What's his name … wait a _minute_!"  Jenny was suddenly struck with the answer.  "_Lee_?  Your grandson is _Sheldon_?!?"

"That's right," Dr. Lee beamed with pride.  "Such a bright young lad.  Quite adept in the sciences.  Runs in the family, you know!"

Mrs. Wakeman couldn't contain her enthusiasm any longer.  "All right, that's quite enough.  Let's get started, everyone!  XJ-9, Andrew, there is a very important package to carry into the house."

The two robot teenagers shrugged their shoulders at each other, and followed the doctor around to open the rear door at the back of the truck.  From the way it sat low on its axles, it was obviously very heavily loaded.  Jenny's mood grew a bit fouler, imagining the piles and piles of boxes she would have to carry inside.  Finally, the doctor twisted the release, and the door slid open …

Revealing only two items – a small yellow box about the size of a toaster, and a large steel rectangular container … almost shaped like a coffin.  The thought sent a shiver down Jenny's spine.

"I'll get the big one, Jenny."  Drew unfastened the cargo cables on the big steel box, and slid it out easily, morphing his body to carry the box flat on his back.  He trotted over to the lawn on all fours, looking like a walking silver coffee table – and drawing astonished stares from Doctors Mogg and Lee.

But the truck still sat low on its axles for some reason.  Jenny nonchalantly grabbed the little yellow container – and found that it wouldn't _budge_.  Curious, she gave it a harder tug, then finally had to pull with both of her mighty arms just to lift it up.  As soon as she did, the truck lunged upwards several inches, its springs groaning with relief.  Jenny felt a bit silly, as she staggered towards the house, struggling to carry a container the size of a lunch box.  It felt like she was carrying a dozen elephants.

Mrs. Wakeman scratched her chin.  "I only expected the university to send over _one_ container.  What's in the other one?"  She pointed to the large steel box that Drew had just set down.

Drew flowed back to his normal form, and casually looked over the labels on the box as he dusted his hands together.  "Let's see … 'Property of University of Tremorton Physics Department', 'Handle With Care', and … 'Danger – Lethal Radioactivity'."

Drew, Brad, and Tuck all jumped back from the box at the same time, with looks of horror on their faces.  "Lethal Radioactivity!?!  Holy schnikey, Doc!  What are you doing with this stuff?!?"

"Relax, relax," laughed Dr. Lee.  "The container is fully shielded to guard against any leakage.  Don't worry, it's perfectly safe.  It's just some support equipment that we'll need later on.  Besides, it's not nearly as dangerous as what's in … _that_ box."  He grinned at Jenny with a pair of mischievous eyes.

Jenny looked down at the little yellow box in her hands, suddenly growing concerned.  "In _this_ box?  What's in _this_ box, then?"

Her mother smiled proudly.  "An artificial black hole."

"A BLACK HOLE!?!"  Jenny's robotic jaw nearly fell off of her face; the boys were just as stunned as she was.  "What in the world are you going to do with a black hole?"

"What indeed," answered Mrs. Wakeman, enjoying the astonishment on their faces …

None of them expected the loud _crack_ that roared from the direction of the house.  Everyone flinched in shock as a blinding white light pulsed through the large windows of Mrs. Wakeman's laboratory, followed by a roar like a cannon shell, and a mighty _whoosh_ of air.  Mrs. Wakeman's eyes grew wide with concern; at any time, she had several high-energy experiments running in her lab, and she feared the worst.

"For the love of Oppenheimer … what now?!?"  The doctor raced towards the front door, with the two university professors hot on her heels.  "Come along, XJ-9.  And bring that black hole with you."

They got to the front door, Mrs. Wakeman flung it open … and nearly crashed into Tuck, who was running around in circles, flailing his little arms in panic – and babbling incoherently.

Mrs. Wakeman ground her teeth in irritation.  "Tucker, I have told you and your brother on occasions too numerous to catalog – stay _out_ of my lab.  _Especially_ when I am not present in it!"

Tuck stared up at her in sheer terror.  "But where did I – how did you – but you were just – AAIIIGHHH!"  Then he bolted outside, screaming at the top of his lungs.  Jenny didn't pay him much attention, as she strained to hold up the little yellow box.  But something had seemed strange, even for Tuck …

The doctor shook her head in frustration, grumbling out loud.  "Well, everything appears to be in order – if a bit messy.  The little ragamuffin probably knocked over a high-discharge capacitor.  Wouldn't be the first time," she sighed.  "Well, Doctor Mogg, Doctor Lee … let's get down to business, shall we?"

She walked over the dropsheet-covered experiment sitting at the far end of the laboratory.  Dr. Wakeman composed herself, enjoying her little moment of theater.  She pulled the white dropsheet away like a stage performer.  "Distinguished colleagues, I give to you … the Continuum Vortex Generator!"

The professors gasped in disbelief, but Jenny was unimpressed.  It really looked just like an oversize steel barrel, with large rings fixed around the outside, perched on three metallic legs.  Most of its surface was covered with blinking lights and small computer readouts.  There were several knobs and dials, but the most prominent one was a large red pushbutton on the side of the machine.

Mrs. Wakeman twisted a release, and the top of the barrel opened up, revealing a round, empty chamber inside.  At her mother's instruction, Jenny opened the small yellow box, and converted her right arm into a lifting crane.  She pulled out a shiny metallic cylinder, no bigger than a thermos, which contained the black hole.  No longer surprised by its heaviness, she guided it over the Vortex Generator, and slowly slid it inside, until they could hear the support legs creak and groan from the newly added weight.

With the push of a button, the machine suddenly hummed to life, and its displays lit up with dazzling energy.  A soft whine emanated from the steel barrel, increasing in pitch as the power output of the machine grew.  It sounded like a muffled jet engine, spooling up to full thrust.  Then the entire Generator shuddered slightly, and floated a few inches in the air under the power of its anti-grav gyros.

"Now, a few quick adjustments, and we can begin," said Mrs. Wakeman.  "I guarantee that none of you have ever seen anything like this before!"

"Uh, Mom?  I have," said Jenny.

Her mother gave her a perplexed look, but Jenny just pointed to the other side of the lab.

Where a second Continuum Vortex Generator was silently floating.

Mrs. Wakeman's glasses nearly fell off her face.  "Heavens to Heisenberg!  Where did _that_ come from?"

* * *

Tuck blinked his eyes, still dazzled from the bright light and deafening sound.  He jumped up and ran around the lab in circles, flailing his little arms in a panic – then the front door swung open, and there stood Mrs. Wakeman, grinding her teeth in irritation.

"Tucker, I have told you and your brother on occasions too numerous to catalog – stay _out_ of my lab.  _Especially_ when I am not present in it!"

Tuck stared up at her in sheer terror.  "But where did I – how did you – but you were just – AAIIIGHHH!"  Then he bolted outside, screaming at the top of his lungs.  He rushed past Jenny and the other two old professors, eager to get as far away as he could from the weirdness in the lab.  Frazzled and disoriented, he babbled incoherently and clutched at his thick black hair, looking for his favorite hiding place – the back of his big brother's pant leg.  At least Brad was still where he was supposed to be, standing with Drew next to the big weird silver box on the front lawn.

"Brad!  Brad!  I'm sorry!" he shouted frantically, as he glommed onto Brad's khakis.  "I pushed the big red button and there was lights and noise and more lights and BOOM and I didn't do anything and I promise never to do it again!"

"Whoa there, Tiger!" said Brad, shaking his head at his pitiful younger sibling.  "You're making even less sense than usual.  Now just try to slow down and tell me what you were doing in Mrs. W's lab.  Did you _break_ something?  'Cause if you did, Dad is gonna freak out.  The last time you broke …"

"Wh-wh-what are you talking about?" squeaked a pathetic little voice.  "I wasn't in Mrs. Wakeman's lab.  I'm out here with you guys."

Brad and Drew turned to see … Tuck, hiding behind the large silver container from the university.

One Tuck hiding behind the container.  One Tuck clinging to Brad's pant leg.

Drew managed to get his mouth working first.  "T-t-two Tucks?"

Tuck peeked up over the lid of his hiding place, coming face to face with … himself.

"AAAAAAIIIIIGGGGGHHHHH!!!!" both Tucks shrieked in unison.

Pantleg-Tuck wrapped his arms around Brad's legs in a death-grip, while Hiding-Tuck ran around in circles on the front lawn.  "Evil clone!  Mrs. Wakeman made an evil clone and it's escaped and it's gonna suck out my brain and it's gonna turn me into a zombie!  AAAIIIGHHH!!!!"

Brad was desperately trying to keep his cool.  "Tuck!  I mean, Tucks!  Calm down!  I'm sure there's a … eh … perfectly logical explanation for this!"

"Easy for you to say – you're not going to get your brain sucked out!  HAAALLLP!  Stay back, clone!"  Tuck sprinted for the house, near hysteria.  "Gotta get Mrs. Wakeman to deactivate it!"

He flung open the front door, his little chest heaving in panicked breaths, to see Dr. Wakeman staring at the far side of her lab.  She wore a bewildered expression  – as if her glasses were about to fall off of her face.

"Heavens to Heisenberg!  Where did _that_ come from?" she gasped.

"Mrs. Wakeman!  Mrs. Wakeman!  HELP!" shrieked Tuck.  "You gotta stop your clone!"

"Stop my WHAT?" said the doctor, growing more confused by the second.

Drew burst through the door, followed by Brad … who was holding another Tuck in his arms, shivering like a Chihuahua.

Jenny, the professors, and Mrs. Wakeman rubbed their eyes in disbelief.

"AHHH!!!  You're not sucking out my brain!"  Tuck turned to run, but tripped over his feet and stumbled a few steps across the lab, bumping against the Continuum Vortex Generator.  Off-balance and out of control, Tuck swung his arms through the air, trying to grab onto anything to keep from falling down … and smacked his hand on the large red button on the side of the Generator.

An otherworldly light flooded the laboratory with bizarre colors.  Tuck grabbed on tight to a pair of handholds on the side of the Generator, paralyzed with terror.  The whine of high-energy machinery filled the room, and suddenly the skin of the Generator crackled with a glowing aura.  A brilliant donut of white light shot out of the top of the barrel, expanding to hover a few feet over the machine _and_ Tuck.  Then the donut rushed towards the floor, filling everyone's ears with a screech and a crack of thunder – and with a blinding flash, Tuck, and the Continuum Vortex Generator, simply disappeared.  A blast of wind rushed through the lab to fill the remaining void, scattering dozens of papers into the air.

Jenny and Drew stared at the empty space in total astonishment, and Brad was in a state of near-shock.  "Mrs. Wakeman, what … what the heck just happened?!?"

The doctor stared silently for a few seconds, but the confusion was gone from her face – and it had been replaced by a triumphant smile.  "Oh, my … gentlemen, we have just witnessed a self-sustaining causality loop … amazing!  Absolutely amazing!"

"What does that mean, Doctor W?!?  What happened to my little brother?"

She clasped her hands behind her back.  "Why, he's right in your arms, Bradley."

She walked over and patted the second Vortex Generator.  "You see, I had just finished setting the initial parameters for the first test run of my Continuum Vortex Generator – or, to use layman's terms – _Time Machine_.  The Time Machine was set to go two minutes into the past, and it was a complete success!  Tuck appeared in the lab two minutes ago, and ran outside while we installed the black hole in the Generator.  Then when the original Tuck saw his double from the future, he became afraid, and he ran back in the lab, just in time to activate the Time Machine – thus beginning his journey two minutes into the past!"

The little fellow was still blinking in confusion, as Mrs. Wakeman shook his hand with a playful chuckle.  "Congratulations, Tucker!  You've just become the world's first time traveler."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Two

* * *


	2. The Ultimate Do Over

A/N – Thanks to all reviewers, especially the new ones.  I just figured out about a week ago that there was a checkbox in my profile to allow anonymous reviewers.  D'oh!  (Smacks self in the forehead.)

Wondering where I got the year 2074 as the current time?  In the episode where Jenny is sent to preschool, Brad asks her if she remembers certain historical events.  One of those was Super Bowl 100.  That's going to occur in January of 2066.  So Jenny must've been turned on after that date.  Add five years (Jenny's age) and that's 2071.  I just tacked on a few extra years to bring it up to an even 2074.

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Two – The Ultimate Do-Over

* * *

Gasps of amazement made their way around the lab as the gravity of Mrs. Wakeman's latest scientific achievement started to sink in.  Brad and Drew stared at the blinking lights on the deceptively humble, barrel-shaped body of the time machine, their mouths rounded and locked in an _ooooooooh_ expression.  Tuck was still recovering from the experience of meeting himself, but a grin was starting to wriggle itself onto his face.  And even Jenny had to admit that her mother's latest nerd project was a lot more impressive than the molds and fungi she'd been working on last month.  Mrs. Wakeman folded her arms with justifiable pride, and enjoyed the surprised gapes from her two scientific colleagues.

"This is impossible," Dr. Mogg finally stammered.  "My team at the university has been working on time travel theory for fifteen years now!  There's no way that a device so small could …"

But he was interrupted by another blast of light and wind.  A brilliant pinprick of blinding white manifested in the middle of the lab, and instantly expanded into a disk, which rushed towards the floor to form a cylinder of light.  Everyone was knocked back on their heels from the outward rush of air; those who had not been quick enough to shield their eyes were now squinting to regain their vision.  Jenny, naturally, had simply turned down the brightness control on her eyes, so she was able to see everything.  And as the cylinder of light faded away, she saw standing in the center of the lab –

A copy of Brad, holding onto yet another version of the time machine.  A huge grin broke out on his face.  "AWESOME!  Man, this is so insanely cool!!!"

Mrs. Wakeman slapped her forehead in exasperation.  "Bradley!  This machine is not a _toy_!"

"B-b-but I didn't _do_ anything!" protested Original-Brad.

"Not yet, you haven't," growled the doctor, looking over the newly arrived, second time machine.  Then she pointed an accusing finger at Future-Brad.  "But _you_ did!  Or rather, you are _going_ to.  Precisely … one minute and forty-seven seconds from _now_.  What were you thinking, young man?  Don't you realize the possible consequences of your tomfoolery could …"

Future-Brad laughed out loud.  "… jeopardize the integrity of the space-time continuum.  Oh, this is so freaked out!  You already said all of this stuff to me, Mrs. W.  I remember it perfectly!"

"I haven't told you anything yet, Bradley," she huffed.  "Well, wait a minute – I suppose I _have_ told you this already, in your timeline.  Oh, _groan_ … teenagers are going to be the death of me."

Future-Brad walked over to his other, two minutes' younger self.  "Hey, check it out!  Greetings from the future, dude!"  The two Brads shook hands.  Jenny and Drew gathered around them, laughing and joking and agreeing that it was one of the coolest, freakiest things they'd ever seen.

Dr. Mogg was still staring, stunned, trying to understand how it was all possible.  He and his team of professors and graduate students had worked on a time travel project at the university for the past fifteen years, with little to show for it.  Yet here, in a humble home laboratory, Dr. Wakeman had invented a fully working time machine – all on her own!  "I just don't understand … all of our calculations showed that a time traveling device would have to be huge – perhaps the size of a ten-story building!"

A smile of realization dawned on Dr. Lee.  "Don't you see what Nora has done, Phinneas?  The artificial black hole I created at the university can bend space-time.  It twists time, but it can twist space too."

"Correct, Sherman," smiled Dr. Wakeman.  "I had been reading about both of your projects, and got an idea while I was trying to shove extra cans of motor oil into my kitchen cabinets.  XJ-9 goes through quite a bit of oil, you know.  Anyway … I thought, 'I do wish my cabinets were roomier, but there just isn't enough space to install bigger ones.'  And that's when the answer hit me – why not just make them bigger on the _inside_?"

Dr. Lee nodded his head.  "The time machine is bigger on the _inside_ than it is on the outside!  A stroke of genius, Nora!  Well done!"

Mogg's shoulders slumped in depression.  "Oh yes, well done_ indeed_, Nora.  I spent tens of millions of university dollars and fifteen years of my life trying to develop a time machine.  I promised them that the University of Tremorton would be the birthplace of time travel!  And then you go and figure out the whole thing by yourself while you're putting away your groceries.  Wonderful.  I can't _wait_ to explain this to the university president on Monday."

Mrs. Wakeman jotted down readings from the gauges of the "future" time machine.  "Oh, Phinneas, I thought you'd be happy to see your theories at work.  Let's see now … the departure time was Saturday, March 17, 2074 – at precisely 5:15:00 PM.  That is fourteen seconds from now.  Bradley, I would recommend that you take your place by the time machine.  Make sure it's the original one."

"This is going to be cool beyond words," grinned Original-Brad.  "I'm off, guys – see you two minutes ago!"  He stood next to the time machine, whose controls were still set to travel two minutes into the past.  Then a devious thought occurred to him.  "Hey, Mrs. W, tell me something … what happens if I _don't_ press the big red button?"

"Bradley!" gasped Mrs. Wakeman.  "Stop joking around!  You must press the button because you've _already_ pressed the button!  Do you want to create a temporal paradox that would quite possibly rupture the fabric of space and time and destroy the known universe?!?!  _Five seconds!_"

Drew gave him a _stop-fooling-around_ look.  "Brad, please don't destroy the universe.  That's where I keep all my stuff."

"Three seconds!" shouted Mrs. Wakeman.  "Two!  One!  _Bradley!_"

"Okay, I won't destroy the universe," he laughed, and punched the red activation button on the side of the barrel.  Once more, an aura of energy briefly danced around the outside of the time machine, bathing the lab with a spectrum of colors.  A bright white donut shot out of the top of the barrel, expanded, and rushed to the floor, surrounding Brad and the machine in a curtain of brilliant light – then they disappeared with a flash and a roar.  The windows of the lab rattled from the shock wave, and the blast of wind tossed papers into the air, and knocked picture frames off of the wall.

The remaining Brad eased his hands into his pockets and smiled at Mrs. Wakeman.  "I knew he was going to push the button," he chuckled.

"That's it!  Out!  Out of the lab, the lot of you!"  Mrs. Wakeman chased the three boys out into the hallway, eager to regain some degree of control over the proceedings in her laboratory.  She turned back and surveyed her lab area with disgust.  She had a low tolerance for chaos and disorder, and the shock waves from the time jumps had the lab looking like her daughter's bedroom.

"I'll catch up with you later, guys," Jenny called out to the boys.  Normally she'd be upset that her mother had chased off her friends, but she was still struck with a touch of awe.  "Wow, Mom, a time machine - this is the first cool thing you've ever invented!  Now I don't have to study for the English midterm next week.  I can just go forward in time, and get a copy of the test!"

"That is _not_ why I built a time machine, young lady," growled the doctor.  "XJ-9, I created it to assist you in your world-saving activities!  Think of all the disasters and accidents that are impossible to predict – wouldn't it be nice to be able to simply go back in time a few minutes, just enough to save the day without irrevocably damaging history?  Think of all the good that could be accomplished!"

"Sure Mom, that sounds great," Jenny said.  Then she put on her huge, lovable-daughter smile.  "But what's wrong with a taking a little trip on the side to pick up an English midterm now and then?"

Her mother sighed heavily.  "Just help me pick these things up off the floor.  And do be careful!"

"All right," groaned Jenny.  She was still holding onto the Time magazine with the story about her saving the space station, and she _did_ want to read it later.  So she quickly opened the door in her belly, stashed the magazine away inside, and then deployed a pair of brooms from each of her elbows.  "Gee, 'scientific research' seems an awful lot like weekly chores," she complained as she started to sweep.

"This is going to mean another article for you in the World Physics Journal," smiled Dr. Lee.  "Most likely an award from the university.  Oh, let's be honest here – you could wind up with a Nobel Prize.  You should be very proud, Nora."

"Yes, _very_ proud," grumbled Dr. Mogg, leafing through a random stack of papers on the desk.  "I imagine you'll want to get a patent on your new gadget, eh?  After all, you _already_ own enough patents on robotics to fill the Tremorton Yellow Pages.  This is the big one, though.  This could make you a very wealthy woman."  His voice was dripping with a jealousy and resentment.

Stars danced in Jenny's eyes.  "_Really?_  Wow, Mom – we're going to be rich!"

"My primary concern is the advancement of science, not financial gain," said her mother, metaphorically dumping cold water on Jenny's dreams of movie star living.  "I already enjoy a very healthy income from my patents – which is necessary to support my very _expensive_ daughter, I might add."  Jenny blushed with embarrassment, and refocused on sweeping the debris off the floor.

"Careful where you're stepping there, Miss XJ-9," said Dr. Lee.  "Watch by your foot."

"Oops."  Jenny knelt down and picked up a small object that had fallen down from the wall.  She had already picked up a few pictures of her mother posing with famous scientists, and three of her mother's doctorate degrees – but this thing seemed like a piece of junk in comparison.  It was a simple wood-and-brass plaque, its letters worn down by the years.  Jenny deployed a small polishing wheel from her wrist, restoring some of the shine to the brass, and read the engraving.

"What's this, Mom?  It says, 'Centerville Robot Roundup, First Place – May 14, 2004.'"

"For goodness sake," groaned Dr. Mogg, "don't tell me you still hang that thing on your wall."

"That certainly brings back memories," chuckled Dr. Lee.

"Come now, Phinneas, you're not still upset after all these years," giggled Mrs. Wakeman.  "It's really nothing more than a sentimental token.  Merciful heavens, that does take me back, though."

"I don't understand," said Jenny, "what's a Robot Roundup?  And where is 'Centerville'?"

"Tremorton used to be called Centerville back then," explained her mother.  "They changed the name about seventy years ago.  And the Robot Roundup was an old competition they used to have for local students.  We would build our own home-made robots and have them compete against each other, in a sort of sporting arena.  The town was hurting after the Great Dot-Com Crash, and it was a way to promote science in the local schools.  Oh, these robots were extremely simple and primitive compared to you, XJ-9.  But at the time, we all thought it was very exciting!"

Jenny couldn't keep from rolling her eyes.  "Sure, I'll bet all the cool kids in school were building robots back then.  _Not._"

"Now see, XJ-9, this is just what I meant when I spoke of making productive use of one's free time!"  Her mother started wagging her finger again.  "I knew that if I worked extra hard and put my best effort into that contest, it would benefit me in the long run.  It may not have been 'cool' or 'dope', but my share of the prize money helped pay for my college tuition.  It aided me in winning a scholarship, and it helped fuel my desire for the study of robotics!"

"I know, I know, you spent all of your spare time with your face buried in books, reading by candlelight," groaned Jenny.  "Your computers only ran at 66 Megahertz, and they were made of rocks.  And you were darn thankful to have them."

"Oh come now, Nora, you're being far too modest," said Dr. Mogg.  "After you won that very first Robot Roundup, you got your picture in the paper.  You were on the local TV news.  You got noticed by businessmen and scientists who were doing robot research at the beginning of the Great Robot Boom of the early 21st century.  They were on the lookout for bright young talent like yourself, and they declared you to be a prodigy – a rising star in world of robotics."

"Oh, Phinneas, stop being so melodramatic," said Dr. Wakeman.

"And you would _never_ have won that contest if you hadn't teamed up with Sidney."

A warm expression came over Mrs. Wakeman's face.  "Ah, Sidney.  He was truly a young man of great intellect and remarkable computer abilities.  I must admit, Sidney's uncanny talent for artificial intelligence software programming was a large reason for our victory in the Robot Roundup."

Her smile broadened, and she broke into a chuckle.  "I remember that I was having the most difficult time getting the software to work correctly in my robot.  If I hadn't bumped into Sidney earlier that week, I doubt that I would have gotten my entry ready in time for the competition."  The doctor placed a hand on Jenny's arm.  "You know, dear, your software is written in the CyberCel Nineteen artificial intelligence language.  Sidney was the creator of CyberCel One."

"Look Mom, hearing about your old friends is all fascinating and junk … sorta."  Jenny finished returning the notebooks to Mrs. Wakeman's workbench.  "But all I'm hearing is that you and your friends were even bigger nerds in high school than you are now.  It sounds like kids back in the early 21st century just studied and worked and never had any fun at all!"

Mrs. Wakeman started to speak, but Jenny planted her hands on her hips with a _clank _and beat her to the punch_._.  "I know, I know … there are more important things in life than _fun_, young lady!"

The doctor held her tongue, and shook her head in frustration.  Sometimes, trying to have a conversation with her daughter was simply an impossibility.  "I am going to put on a pot of tea to calm my nerves before we continue, gentlemen.  Can I get you anything?"

"Allow me to help, Nora," said Dr. Lee.  "It'll give us a chance to talk about how you used the gravity well to achieve critical curvature of space-time …"  The two scientists lapsed into incomprehensible physics-speak as they made their way into the kitchen.

Jenny's pigtails slumped.  "Leave it to my mom to find a way to have a boring night with a time machine," she muttered to herself.  _It's going to be a yawner of a night, with lots of science junk and geek talk and old stories.  Maybe I can duck out of here while she's in the kitchen._

While she set the plaque back on the wall, and Doctors Wakeman and Lee made tea in the kitchen …

Doctor Phinneas Mogg inspected the Continuum Vortex Generator closely, brooding as he walked around the simple barrel-shaped machine.

The machine that mocked that last fifteen years of his life.

Phinneas Mogg ran his hand along the top of time machine, stroking the shiny metal finish.

"It should have been mine," he said in a low voice.

Jenny glanced up, barely paying attention to the short, disagreeable professor.  She wasn't sure if he was trying to start a conversation or not.  She would just as soon not talk to him; as far as she was concerned, he was only here to talk science with her mother, and he didn't seem like friendly type.

"It should all have been mine you know, robot," he grumbled.  Jenny frowned; she didn't appreciate being addressed like an inanimate object.  "It all started with that infernal Robot Roundup, so long ago.  It must be close to seventy years, now.  Robot, what's the date on that plaque again?"

Jenny took a quick glance at the wall.  "It says May 14, 2004."

"A little less than two months short of seventy years, then."  Dr. Mogg stroked his beard, and a dark expression fell over his face.  "Seventy years of trying to escape the shadow of the great, the famous, 'the' Doctor – Nora – Wakeman."  His words dripped with bitterness and anger.

He continued speaking, more to himself than to Jenny.  "I was going to be a pioneer in the robotics industry, but Nora beat me to it.  Then I was going to make a breakthrough in translating alien languages, but Nora beat me to that, too.  She beat me to the revolution in cheap fusion energy, and she beat me to the first fusion rocket engine design.  Time travel was going to be mine.  I devoted fifteen years of my life to working on time travel, and she snatched it right out from under my nose."

Something about the tone of Dr. Mogg's voice was starting to spook her a bit.  Something about the way he was staring at the time machine.

He muttered to himself in a low, guttural voice that even Jenny couldn't make out.  "And it all started way, way back … at that stupid Robot Roundup, in 2004.  If I had won that contest, my life … our lives … would have been very, very different.  Very different indeed."

Jenny heard the _beeps_ and _bloops_ of fingers working on a computer keypad.  "Five days ought to be enough," said Mogg.

"Hey … hey!" Jenny shouted at him.  "What are you doing with my mom's time machine?"

"It won't be her time machine in a few seconds."  He raised his hand to give her a good-bye wave …

And slammed it down on the large red activation button.

The peace and quiet that had settled over the Wakeman home was shattered as an ethereal halo of light grew in intensity around the time machine.  Wild flickering shadows filled the laboratory, and a dancing orange-purple aura licked the outside of the machine's barrel-shaped body.  Shouts of alarm came from the kitchen, as everyone in the house realized that the time machine was about to begin another leap – an unplanned leap – across the fabric of space-time.  The power circuits of the generator whined higher in frequency, and the time machine prepared to make its jump …

Jenny covered the distance between herself and the time machine in two long strides.  "Turn it off!"

"It can't be turned off, robot," yelled Mogg.  "Now get away before …"

A brilliant donut of white light shot out of the top of the barrel, and expanded over their heads.  Then with nerve-rattling speed, it shot towards the floor, engulfing Jenny, Mogg, and the time machine in a cylinder of blinding white.  Then there was an explosion of dazzling energy all around them, saturating them with perfect white light, and Jenny had the strangest sensation … as if her body had turned into a ghostly vapor.  A tiny surge of panic coursed through her wires and hydraulics – but then a fraction of a second later, the sensation passed.  The cylinder of white light surrounding them disappeared, and a thunder like a dozen cannons ripped through the air – followed by the strange sound of disintegrating wood.

And suddenly Jenny felt herself falling.  They had re-materialized about six feet in the air.

Instead of ceiling above her, she saw only a broken canopy of green leaves.  She was surrounded by twigs and branches and foot-wide tree trunks.  She swung her arms wildly through a blizzard of wood chips before crashing into a bed of rough, scratchy shrubs.  Instead of the floor, she felt the slick texture of mud underneath her body; she had landed on moist dirt, covered with slick wet leaves.  Now, suddenly, she felt herself sliding backwards down a short incline.  She tried to brace herself, but only wound up completing two undignified somersaults before landing in a brackish, six-inch deep puddle of water.

Short circuits crackled all over her metal body.  She shuddered and convulsed for a few unpleasant moments, before managing to roll herself out of the water.  Her eyes spun in their sockets as she took a few minutes to just lay on the ground and relax, coated with dirt and leaves.  Faint wisps of smoke drifted from her fingers and pigtails into a clear blue sky.

She finally raised a hand to her forehead with a _whirr, _and pulled away a clod of mud.  "_Eww_, disgusting!  Aw, gross … wow, do I ever need a wash and wax.  What just _happened_ here?"

Jenny slowly got to her feet, still groggy from the whole ordeal, and took in her surroundings.  She appeared to be standing in a long ditch, at the edge of a patch of scraggly forest.  _Majorly weird._  She climbed back up the incline, to the spot where she'd impacted.  There sat the time machine, half-buried in the dirt; its anti-grav gyros were off, and the moist earth couldn't support its weight.  There was a huge dent in its side, apparently from falling against a large tree trunk; a faint crackling sound came from its control panel, which Jenny recognized as the sound of failing electronics.  None of the lights or gauges on the time machine were illuminated.  At the very least, it was powered down … at the worst … she didn't want to think about that right now.

"My mom is _so_ going to freak when she sees what you did to her time machine, Mogg."  She looked around, and suddenly realized that she couldn't see anyone or anything but forest.  "Dr. Mogg?"  She deployed a scanning scope and did a three-sixty, but still all she saw were trees.  "Mom?  Brad?  Drew?  Tuck?  Anyone?"

She walked back to the ditch she'd fallen into, climbed up the other side, and found herself standing alone at the edge of a long dirt road, surrounded by trees and overgrowth on either side.  She couldn't see any houses in either direction.

_I was just standing in Mom's laboratory a few seconds ago … where in the world am I?_  She cracked her elbow open, and deployed a loudspeaker.  "Dr. Mogg!  Can you hear me?  Are you all right?"  Still she heard nothing but the _chirps_ and _squawks_ that composed a normal forest's background noise.

Jenny gulped.  _The time machine was only set to go back in time two minutes … right?_

For lack of a better idea, and with a growing sense of uneasiness, Jenny followed the dirt road to look for the increasingly annoying Dr. Mogg.  _He might have walked this way while I was short-circuiting in the puddle_.  She deployed a set of motorized wheels from her feet, and quickly roared her way several hundred yards to the end of the dirt road.  There was still no sign of Mogg; but at least she was back in civilization.  She saw a two-lane road, which was lined with brand-new houses.

Well, the houses _looked_ brand-new, but they were a really old style … simple ranch and two-story boxy houses without any classic rounded deco lines.  But they looked as if they'd just been built.

Feeling more confused with each passing second, Jenny spotted a large sign that was posted at the entrance to the dirt road.  She sprinted around to read it …

"Land Available For Development.  Residential Housing Only – Centerville Zoning Authority."

Her mouth hung open for a few seconds.  "_Centerville_?  Isn't that … the old name for Tremorton?"

But it was the printing at the bottom of the sign that blew her away.

"Road scheduled for paving, Summer 2004."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Three

* * *


	3. The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

A/N – Yes, as some of you have mentioned, Jenny is the only one of our heroes to go back in time.  That doesn't mean we won't see any familiar faces.  I will say that Drew is taking a breather this time around; he's pretty prominent in most of my stories, and I thought y'all might like a break from him.  I wanted to try writing a story that focused much more on Jenny – who is the star of the show, after all.

Lonestarr: I think you're right about Drew's line.  I'd heard it somewhere, I just couldn't remember where.

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Three – The Wrong Place at the Wrong Time

* * *

Jenny ran down the peaceful suburban road in a state of shock, unable to accept the things her eyes were seeing.  Every house on either side of the street was an old-style pre-deco house, typical of turn-of-the-century construction.  The cars in the driveways were all smooth and slippery, like giant bars of soap, without any of the popular modern flourishes like domed cockpits or tail fins.  None of them looked like they were capable of flight.  She knelt down to inspect the strange, rounded trunk of one of the cars, and noticed some identifying writing.  _'Honda Accord.'  Never heard of it._  The license plate looked different, too.  And it had an orange sticker on the corner that read "Oct 2004."

"Oh no, oh no," she squealed, struggling to keep her anxiety in check.  "Oh no, that egghead Mogg did _not_ send us back to the turn of the century.  _Aiiieeee_ …."

The newspaper was still sitting on the walkway of a nearby house.  She grabbed it, first noticing that the paper was called the _Centerville Tribune_ instead of the _Tremorton Tribune_.  The news was all about elections and scandals and wars … _well, some things never change_, she sighed.  But there was nothing about alien attacks, or the Cluster threat, or giant invisible eyeballs.  "Motorists outraged as gasoline soars to two dollars a gallon" … _cars are still burning gasoline here?_

The date at the top of the paper was Monday, May 10, 2004.

"Ho boy ho boy ho boy," she gulped, rubbing her metallic hands together fretfully.  "Okay, this isn't a problem.  This is _not_ a problem.  The time machine brought us here, it can take us back.  All I have to do is find that little weasel Phinneas Mogg, and …"

"Hey, you!  What are you doing with my newspaper?!?"

Jenny lowered the newspaper to see a middle-aged woman in gym pants and a lime green t-shirt standing at the front door of the house.  She was holding a thick pair of glasses in her hands, cleaning the lenses with her shirttail.  Her eyes were narrowed into a squint, and a scowl adorned her doughy face.  "I finally caught you!  Punk neighbor kids.  My paper's been stolen three times in the past week …"

"No!  I wasn't stealing your paper, honest!" Jenny said nervously.  "I'm just trying to find …"

"I ought to call the cops on you."  The woman pulled out a small box, labeled _Marlboro Lights_.  Jenny lifted a perplexed eyebrow as the woman took a thin paper tube from the box, and put it in her mouth.  Then she started making clicking noises with a small plastic device.  "Stupid lighter.  Hey, tell you what kid, if you got any matches on you, I'll forget the whole thing."

"Matches?  You want to set that thing in your mouth … on _fire_?  Uh … okay."  It sounded like a strange request, but if it would calm her down … Jenny's index finger popped open, deploying a small laser.

The housewife put the thick glasses back on her face – and nearly had a stroke.  The "punk kid" she was talking to was a six-and-a-half-foot tall metallic monster, with some kind of death ray in her finger.  A thin red beam jumped out of the barrel of the laser, igniting her cigarette … which tumbled to the ground as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Jenny was as unnerved as the housewife, and she backed away from the single-story house, towards the road.  Then the air was filled with the high-pitched screech of automobile tires.  She turned to see a blue hatchback sliding past her, wildly out of control.  The driver was staring at her, stone-faced, in complete and total awe.  The hatchback spun around 180 degrees, and slid into the ditch.

Her rescue programming kicked in, and she sprinted the short distance to the ditch, where the hatchback was resting on its side, its tires still spinning.  Jenny picked the car up easily, and set it back on the pavement.  Thankfully, neither the car nor the driver seemed to be seriously hurt.  "Gosh, are you all right?  You should try to be more careful, mister," she said, trying to sound calm and reassuring.  "I think these scratches will buff right out …"  Her right hand retracted, and a rotary polishing tool deployed …

Then she realized that the driver was still staring at her as if she were a Martian invader.  He slammed his car into reverse, punched the accelerator, and screeched off in the opposite direction – only to run into telephone pole a hundred feet away.

By now at least half a dozen people had walked out on their front lawns, gaping at Jenny in amazement.  She was used to stares from strangers in public all the time, but these people were staring at her like she'd just walked off of the screen of a horror movie.  "Man, you'd think they'd never seen a robot girl before!" she huffed to herself.

_Uh-oh … no, they haven't_.  This was an age long before intelligent robots – let alone super-powered teenagers who could lift cars over their head.  Suddenly, it seemed like a good idea to get out of sight as quickly as possible.  Giving the stunned residents of the suburban neighborhood one last thrill, Jenny rotated her pigtails to flight position, and blasted into the sky on twin plumes of blue exhaust.  In seconds, she had disappeared into a pale blue blur, high in the skies over … _Centerville_.

Nothing looked right.  The mall wasn't where it was supposed to be – but then again, she remembered, it had only been built ten years ago.  The big sixty-story skyscraper in the middle of town, the building that dominated the skyline and showed up on all of Tremorton's tourism ads … the skyscraper simply didn't exist.  _I think it was built sometime back in the 2030's … sigh, now I wish I'd paid attention in History class_.  She glided over the downtown area, trying to recognize the layout of the streets.  Many of them looked familiar, but things had changed a lot over seventy years.

She shook her head clear, and tried to calm down.  _Okay, the time machine is hidden in the woods, so nobody's going to find it._  It might be damaged.  She didn't have the first clue about how her mother's time machine worked, so she certainly wouldn't be able to fix it.  But Dr. Mogg would – her mother had mentioned that the machine was based on his theories.  So now the problem was finding him – _soon_.  Because Jenny's instincts told her that Mogg had come back to this particular time for one reason – to cause trouble.

Jenny converted her pigtails to a pair of scanning dishes, and zoomed her eyes twelve inches out of her face, surveying the streets below for the short, stocky form of Dr. Mogg.  Flying along under the power of her rocket-toes, she tried to think of the first likely place that he might go …

All of the sudden, Jenny realized that she wasn't alone in the sky anymore.  Her auditory inputs picked up the deep _chop-chop-chop_ sound of whirling blades.  She glanced over her shoulder to see a police helicopter, struggling to keep pace with her as she circled over downtown Centerville.

"Attention unknown aircraft," boomed a loudspeaker on the belly of the helicopter.  "You are currently in violation of multiple city ordinances and FAA laws.  Identify yourself immediately, and …"

She gulped nervously, retracted her eyes, and hovered in place on her pigtail-jets.  In the cockpit of the helicopter, she could see two policemen staring at her in disbelief.  The pilot got the nerve to edge a little closer, until Jenny had to shield her eyes and face from the powerful downdraft of the main rotor.  The last thing she wanted was to get in trouble with the police.  She gave the two officers an innocent, girlish wave, and then blasted her jets to full power, rocketing towards a group of brick buildings downtown.

The young pilot glanced over to his senior officer, who had been working the PA.  "Um … you want we should call this in, captain?"

The older policeman gave him a stern look.  "I got three months to go until my pension.  I didn't see nothin'.  You didn't see nothin'.  Got it?"

"Got it," he gulped, as the helicopter banked off in the opposite direction.

Jenny streaked towards the ground and hit the brakes at the last second, slowing to a soft landing in a loading area behind a string of downtown businesses.  She darted behind a large green dumpster, and checked the area to make sure she hadn't been seen.  It was the middle of the day, and the busy sounds of commerce and activity were all around her; but for the time being, she was alone in the alleyway.

"Wow, and people back _home_ think I'm a freak," she pouted to herself.  "These guys think I'm a _monster_.  I've got to think of some way to move around without causing a riot.  Hmmm … I could just wait until dark … no, I don't want to spend the day hiding behind a giant garbage can."  She held out her shiny steel arms, frowning at them.  "Stupid metal body!  I _told_ Mom that we needed a new exo-skin, but she wouldn't listen to me.  She said I'd only use it to hang out at the mall and go to parties.  Which I _would_ definitely do, of course.  But it sure would be nice to have right now …"

She carefully walked along the alleyway, and surveyed the names above the loading doors.  "_Domino's_.  Must be some kind of game store.  Huh, they sure go through a lot of pizza.  _Kinko's_.  Ewghh, I don't even want to know what goes on in there.  _Subway_.  Cool, if I get tired, I won't have to walk … but I don't have any money for tokens.  _Salvation Army_.  Wow, if I don't want to get in trouble with the police, then I _really_ don't want to get in trouble with the military.  Better try a different hiding place …"

But Jenny noticed that there were stacks of boxes behind the Salvation Army building, and they were all filled with civilian clothes, not military uniforms.  "I guess the military uses these to blend into the crowd, for undercover missions."  She grinned, and she started enthusiastically rummaging through the rest of the boxes.  "That's not a bad idea!"

* * *

The young man in the business suit shuffled back and forth impatiently, waiting for the crossing signal to turn green.  Suddenly a hand reached out and tapped him on the shoulder.  "Excuse me, sir," said a teenage girl's voice.  "I'm trying to find my … um … _uncle_.  He's about four feet tall, wearing a white lab coat, glasses, and he has a bushy brown beard.  Have you seen him?"

"Sorry, miss, haven't seen anyone like that …"  Then he did a double-take.  "Geez, did you just step out of a time machine?"

"W-what!?!"

"Is your school having a 'Seventies Day' or something?  Oh … there's the light.  Sorry I couldn't help you," he shouted, as he ran across the intersection.

Jenny looked at her reflection in a plate glass window.  The whole idea behind the exo-skin was to cover up her robotic exterior.  _So_, she thought, _why not try the same thing with clothes?_  It had actually been fun going through the clothes in the Salvation Army boxes, trying on different outfits.  Her mother had never let her wear clothes before.

But the clothes in the boxes hadn't been that stylish, and most of them hadn't fit.  And the _main_ idea was to cover up as much of her metal skin as possible.  She'd found a pair of flared trousers – fashion nightmares, but they _were_ shaped just like her legs.  She covered her torso and arms with a large turtleneck sweater, and cinched an old belt where her 'human' waist would be … if she were human.  The gloves were ugly and clashed with the belt, but she couldn't leave her hands uncovered.  And to top everything off, she had found a long dark wig.  It sat flat on her head, with bangs that came halfway down over her eyes; but it did cover her pigtails, which she had folded away for storage.

"I finally get to wear clothes," she sighed at the window, "and I look like that old hippie lady that works in the aromatherapy store at the mall."  Well, she was drawing the odd stare, but nobody was flailing their arms in panic.  Her bigger concern was tracking down that loony old scientist.  She'd been walking around Centerville for three hours now, and still didn't have a clue as to where she might find …

_Phinneas Mogg._  There he was, reflected in the window.  Jenny wheeled around to see her fellow time traveler scurrying along the sidewalk on the other side of the street.  He glanced back and forth, and ducked into a store called _Radio Shack._

"Finally!"  _And just where do you think you're going, you little sneak?_  Jenny bolted across the street, ignoring the red light – she couldn't afford to lose track of Mogg a second time.  She paused in front of the door to calm down and straighten her wig, then she walked in.

There were a dozen people in the store – and most of them were young and geeky-looking.  Dr. Mogg stuck out like a sore thumb.  He was browsing through racks of electrical parts, grabbing packets of fuses and switches.  He didn't _look_ like he was up to any mischief.  Jenny snuck up behind him, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, until she was standing directly behind the old man.

"_Ahem._"

Mogg spun around with a start.  "Good heavens, young lady – you gave me a bit of a scare.  Hope I wasn't in your way.  Are you looking for something?"

She folded her arms with a scowl.  "As a matter of fact, I am."  Then she lowered her voice.  "I'm looking for a sneaky scientist from the future who _stole_ my mother's time machine."

Mogg nearly fell over backwards.  "What … I … wait a minute.  _Robot_?  Is that you?"

Jenny took a glove off, wiggled her metallic fingers, and slipped it back on.  "If you weren't just an old man, I'd be tempted to whoop your _butt_.  What's the big idea?"

Mogg stammered for a few seconds, checked to make sure nobody else in the store was within earshot, then regained his composure.  "What do you think I'm doing?  As you might have noticed, the time machine is _damaged_.  I came into town to scout for supplies, so I may effect repairs!"

"And you needed to sneak off without me to do that, huh?" she hissed.  "You came back to this time to monkey around with history, didn't you?!?"

"That's outrageous!" he protested.  "Look, robot – the last time I saw you, you were short circuiting in a puddle of water.  I thought you had been rendered inoperative, so I headed into town by myself.  Besides, I wouldn't have brought you along anyway.  As you have no doubt noticed …" – he tugged at her sweater – "… you don't exactly blend in with the crowd.  In fact, it's _you_ who is foolishly jeopardizing history!  If any of these yokels came face to face with a fully functioning automaton, why they'd …"

"Yeah, yeah, I get the picture," she huffed, her eyes narrowing into an angry stare.  Everything that Mogg said was right, technically – and unfortunately, she was dependent on him to fix the time machine.  But she still didn't trust him in the slightest.  "Don't worry about me – the sooner you get your gizmos and fix my mom's machine, the sooner we can get out of here."

"I've secured a room here in town to serve as a makeshift workshop, while I build a replacement part."  He glared back at her, matching her confrontational tone.  "I would suggest that you return to the woods in the new subdivision, to guard the time machine.  Stay out of sight – and stay out of my way."  Jenny fumed at him, but Mogg just smirked and walked away, heading towards the back of the store.

Mogg grinned to himself.  It was obvious that the robot girl didn't like him, and that suited his purposes just fine.  She might have been useful as a lab helper … no doubt she had all manner of tools that would come in handy right now.  But there was no way she would've helped with the electronics work he had planned for tonight.  Besides, he already had an assistant lined up.  A bright young fellow he'd met outside of the local high school.

Dr. Mogg approached a chubby teenage boy, with spiky dark hair and a hint of stubble on his chin.  He wore thick glasses – just like his – and had a familiar, arrogant sneer on his face.  The young boy snorted a greeting at the doctor, then returned his attention to a row of electronics parts on the shelf.

"Have you found the AC motors I told you to get, Phinneas?" asked the doctor.

"Geez, call me Vinny, wouldya?" grumbled the teenager.  "My _grandma_ calls me Phinneas.  How the heck did you know what my real name was, anyway?  Gawd, Phinneas is such a retarded name."

"Don't worry, young fellow, you'll grow into it," smiled the doctor.  "Let's just worry about that robot project you're working on for this Friday's little contest.  Why don't you show it to me after dinner tonight, and we can … discuss some improvements?"

"Pfft.  Yeah sure, whatever, old-timer.  I'm working on the 'Mogg Masher' tonight in the garage.  But I think it's a little late to convert it to run on _steam power_," he chuckled sarcastically.

Dr. Mogg just laughed, and shook his head.  "Always so fast with the smart-mouth remark.  I have to say, 'Vinny' … you remind me so much of myself at your age."  Vinny didn't understand why the weird old man found that so funny.

* * *

Jenny balled her fists in rage, and fought to control her temper as the arrogant Dr. Mogg strolled off to the back of the store.  _Who does he think he is, ordering me around like … like I was his robotic servant or something!  I wouldn't want to spend another second of my time with him anyway_.  She ground her teeth for a moment, frustrated at her situation.  At least the old coot was working on repairs to the time machine.  But until he was finished … there was nothing for her to do but wait.

A tall, thin boy with dark hair and a pleasant face walked up to her.  He seemed to be about high school age, and from his uniform, Jenny guessed that he was working as a store clerk.  He looked all right, and maybe was even a little cute, but he was definitely a _nerd_.  "Ex-excuse me, miss," he said in a cracking voice.  "Is there something I can help you find?"

"No thanks, I found everything I'm looking for," she huffed, shooting a dirty look in Mogg's direction.  _I'm not sticking around this place.  'Jeopardize history.'  Pfft.  I'm not going to do anything stupid enough to jeopardize history_, she grumbled to herself, still seething at Mogg's patronizing tone.  _Besides, I'm pretty sure nothing historic ever happened in a place like Geek Central here.  Maybe there's an old-fashioned mall around town somewhere where I can hang out.  I wonder if they had malls back in 2004?_

Jenny stomped her way towards the store exit, her anger at Mogg still simmering.  She blew her way through the swinging door …

And knocked a pedestrian ten feet backwards, onto the sidewalk.

The young girl had been just about to open the door when Jenny blasted her way outside.  "Oh no," gasped Jenny, "I'm so sorry!  I didn't see you there!"  She knelt down to help the girl up, and started gathering the notebooks that had fallen out of her backpack.

The girl, who looked to be a teenager herself, sat up awkwardly on the concrete and cradled her face in her hands.  "Oh .. oh, d-don't worry, it's okay, I sh-should have been paying more attention myself."

Then she cringed, as a chorus of laughter erupted nearby.  A group of three attractive teenage girls, dressed in trendy clothes, was hanging out in front of a Smoothie store next to the Radio Shack.  And they were having a good laugh at the awkward girl's troubles.

"Never mind them," said Jenny.  "Let's have a look at your face.  Does anything hurt?"

She pulled the girl's hands away … and felt the turbopumps in her chest stop cold.

Her plain form was dressed in a simple long-sleeved sweater and a pleated skirt.  Her slightly tangled light brown hair hung over her shoulders in a mess, falling away from her long, thin face.  Her small dark eyes were welling up with tears, but from the expression on her face, they were tears of embarrassment, not of pain.  The force of the door's impact had knocked her glasses crooked.  She reached up to straighten them out on her nose … her _long_ nose … her long, _familiar_ nose …

"I feel kind of funny," whined the girl, blinking her eyes.  "Oh, no … I think … I think I'm going to have a nose bleed."  She grabbed her backpack out of Jenny's hands, frantically rummaging for a tissue.  Jenny caught a glimpse inside, of a printed flyer titled '2004 Robot Rumble'.

The trendy girls were still laughing.  "Better watch out," shouted the blonde, "if Nora's nose busts loose, it could flood the town!"

Jenny kept staring, her face frozen in shock.  "N-N-Nora?"  _No way.  No way!  Mom?_

Nora clamped a wad of tissue over her red, puffy nose, looking pathetic and horrifically embarrassed.  "D-don't worry, this happens all the time," she said in a mousey voice.  "I h-have thin nasal membranes.  It'll dry up in a few s-seconds …"

The store clerk rushed out of the Radio Shack, drawn by the commotion.  "What's going on out here?  Is everything all right?  Does somebody need me to call nine-one-one?"

"Hey Nora!" sneered the trendy blonde, "here's your big chance to impress him.  Don't poke his eyes out with your needle-nose, okay?"

That was the breaking point.  Young Nora, fifteen years of age, scrambled to her feet, mortified with embarrassment.  She clutched her backpack to her chest and sprinted off down the street, tears streaming from her eyes, eager to get as far away as she could as fast as possible.

It had all happened so fast.  Jenny had just run into her mother … literally … as a fifteen-year old girl!  She picked up an electronics textbook that had fallen out of Nora's backpack, with a blizzard of thoughts whirling through her electronic mind.  _This is unbelievable!  This is so freaked out!  I kind of feel bad for bumping into her like that … oh, no … I hope I didn't just mess up the past somehow …_ She tried to calm herself down.  _Nah, no way.  I just bumped into her, and she's not hurt.  It's just a little nose bleed.  What's the worst that could happen?_

The annoying trendy girls were still cackling amongst themselves.  The blonde waved at the store clerk, who was looking very confused and intimidated in the presence of so many teenage girls.  "Hey there, big guy.  I think Science Queen has the hots for you."

The store clerk blinked nervously, then adjusted his shirt collar.  "I … uh … _snort_ … I have to get back inside and debug the software on the store's computer."

"Ha, ha!  You do that!  Run along now, Sidney!"

_Sidney?_  The name hit Jenny between the eyes like a brick.  She tried to remember something her mother had been blathering on about earlier, when she was talking about the stupid Robot Roundup – the very first robot contest that she had ever won.  She had teamed up with a boy named Sidney, who was some kind of computer programming expert … just the type of geek who would work in a place like this.

"Excuse me?" she blurted, grabbing the clerk by the arm.  "Did they say your name was _Sidney_?"

"Uh … that's right," he mumbled, his voice cracking again.  "Sidney Wakeman."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Four

* * *


	4. Doing It Old School

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Four – Doing It Old School

* * *

The security fence around the new car lot of Centerville Chevrolet was ten feet high; Jenny jumped it easily.  She felt a bit like a criminal, sneaking around in the dark of night; but desperate times called for desperate measures.  She needed a place to rest, but she didn't have any money, she didn't know anyone in 2004, and she wasn't about to go sleep out in the woods.  She approached a large vehicle – the sticker in the window called it an 'SUV' – and deployed a skeleton key from her index finger.  Seconds later, the door popped open, and Jenny snuck inside.

She fiddled with the seat, finally getting it to recline.  Jenny tried to relax, but her mind kept replaying the conversation she'd had with her mother back in the lab.  According to her mom, she and Sidney had worked together on a robot project to win a contest called the 'Robot Roundup'.  Winning that contest sent her on her way to becoming one of the greatest robotics experts of the 21st century.  Mom had made it sound like she and Sidney were _just_ a pair of nerds doing science together –

That was, until Jenny had accidentally bumped into teenage Nora and Sidney, and found out that Sidney the computer geek was actually Sidney _Wakeman_.  It might have been a coincidence – but how many Wakemans could there be in this town?  _I guess Mom must've been married at one time … after all, everyone calls her "Mrs." Wakeman.  But is Mom is supposed to marry that guy?  I just can't imagine my mom ever being interested … in boys!  Ewghh, that's just so … so wrong!  Yechh!_

But what if it was _supposed_ to happen – and Jenny had done something to prevent it?  _That_ could be a problem.  It might be a good idea to check things out at the high school tomorrow.  She leaned back, closed her eyes, and executed her "sleep" command.

But just before she powered down into sleep mode, she felt something strange; a faint vibration in the seat that started to grow.  The whole SUV started to shake – in fact, all the cars and trucks in the lot were starting to shake.  It felt as if a freight train had roared past the lot.  Then a deep rumbling seemed to well up from the ground itself, and Jenny began to worry a bit – but the shaking only lasted a few seconds.  Soon everything was peaceful again, and the robot girl was fast asleep.

* * *

Walking through the corridors of Centerville High School, Jenny almost felt like she was exploring an alien planet.  In a lot of ways, everything was very similar, and it looked just like her own school back home in 2074.  But it was the little differences that stood out.  Everything _felt_ weird.  The old boxy style of the architecture made the school look like a giant warehouse.  The colors were different, the signs were different – and some of the windows on the first floor actually had bars welded to them!  _I know every kid thinks of school as a prison but … that's ridiculous!_

The hallways were plastered with signs and posters, some of which were comforting in their familiarity – "Spring Formal on Saturday", "School Fundraiser", "Big Game Friday!"  But other posters were unlike anything she'd ever seen – like warnings not to bring drugs or weapons to school.  And lots of posters telling students to Save The Earth by recycling cans and bottles.  _Pfft, when I have to save the Earth, I have to use laser beams.  Oh, wait!  I forgot … this is back before they solved the garbage problem._

The lunch bell rang, unleashing a mob of students into the halls.  Jenny tried to look as ordinary as possible, clutching her mother's dropped textbook to her chest, and slipped in with the flow of students heading towards the cafeteria.  Again, her thrift-box clothes drew odd stares from some people, but there were a lot of other girls dressed up even weirder: spooky, depressed girls all dressed in black; trendy girls wearing layers and layers of the latest fashion; some girls were wearing clothes that looked like they were painted on!  _And apparently, girls in the early 21st century like to show off their belly buttons.  Well, at least nobody's freaking out at me._

"There's gotta be a thousand kids in this school," she moaned to herself.  "Mom must be here somewhere, but I don't see any familiar faces …"  Then her eyes sprang wide.  "Whoa!  I take that back!"

A short distance ahead of her, leaning back against a locker, was a tall, thin boy with spiky red hair.  _It's not possible … he looks just like Brad!_  Well, not _just_ like Brad … he was wearing a loose-fitting basketball jersey over an extra-large T-shirt, and a pair of baggy jeans that were two sizes too large … in fact, they were actually drooping a few inches below his waist.  She blushed … _I can see his underwear!_

The boy noticed Jenny staring at him, and gestured at her with two fingers.  "Yo 'sup, shorty?  Yeah, what you starin' at?  You like what you see?  'Cause I gots the flava that the ladies savor."

Jenny blinked a couple of times.  _It sounds like English, but I have no clue what he's saying._  "I'm sorry, you just really, really look like somebody I know.  A friend of mine back home, named Brad."

"Hey, don't be dissin' me with my lame-o middle name."  He thumped his chest with his fist.  "The name is Tuck … T to-the U to-the C to-the K.  But my homies call me T-Bone."

"Your name … is Tuck?  And your middle name is Brad?"  Jenny couldn't help but giggle.  _This must be one of Brad and Tuck's relatives – maybe even their grandfather!  Oh wow, this is just so freaky!_

T-Bone didn't appreciate the laughter.  "Hey, hey, hey, what's the dizzle, shizzle?  You can't be hatin' on a brotha's name like that!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry … look, maybe you can help me out.  I'm just trying to find somebody.  Do you know Nora Wakeman?"

"Can't says that I do," said T-Bone.  "Only one Nora in this dump that I knows of.  An egghead named Nora Smegglewyck.  Lemme give you the 411 … she's probably at the back of the cafeteria, readin' her latest issue of Dork Digest or sumpin'."

"Uh … thanks, 'T-Bone'."  Jenny walked into the cafeteria, shaking her head in disbelief.  _I sure hope everybody here doesn't talk like that, or I'm going to need a new language OS disk._

The cafeteria was bustling with the sounds of a hundred conversations going on at once.  Students were getting their meals, gathering together at their usual tables with their circles of friends … it wasn't too hard for Jenny to imagine that she was back home at Tremorton High.  She slowly scanned the room, relieved that the room noise was drowning out the whirrs and clicks of her motors.  She called up an image of her teenage mother from yesterday's video memory, and activated her facial-recognition routines.  A match … at the back of the cafeteria, just like T-Bone said …

"Oh, wow," gasped Jenny.  There was the meek little girl with the long brown hair that she'd seen yesterday, sitting at a table all by herself.  Her face was buried in a thick textbook, only looking up occasionally to shoot a nervous glance across the room.  Jenny stood in a motionless stupor for a few seconds, blocking traffic in the doorway.  It was all so surreal.  Whenever she thought of her mother, she always saw her as authority figure; a glowering, all-business scientist-dictator.  But now she was just an outcast teenage freak – not unlike herself.

Jenny quickly checked her wig to make sure it was on straight, and made sure the cuffs of her turtleneck were tucked into her gloves to cover her metal skin.  Then she slowly made her way towards the tables at the back of the cafeteria, feeling more nervous with every step she took.

"Um … e-excuse me?"  Jenny waved her hand to get her attention.  "Is your name … _Nora_?"

"Huh?  Wha?"  Nora's head nervously popped out of her textbook.

"Nora … Smegglewyck?"  _Ugh, that's a mouthful!_

"Yes … do I know you?  Oh, right … yesterday, outside the electronics store."

Jenny gulped.  "Right.  I've been trying to track you down, to … um … give you back this textbook that you dropped on the sidewalk."  Jenny held out the book on college-level electronics.

Nora smiled with a sigh of relief.  "Oh, there it is!  I thought it was gone for good … my mom was giving me _major_ grief last night for losing it!  It's kind of expensive.  Thanks for bringing it back … uhh …"

"J-Jenny," she stammered, then wondered whether or not it was a good idea to use her real name.  _Too late now._  "My name's Jenny – I'm sort of new in town.  I just wanted to apologize again.  I really feel bad for knocking you on the ground like that."

"Don't worry about it, Jenny," sighed Nora.  "I probably would have found a way to screw things up myself, even if you hadn't come along."  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she looked like she regretted speaking them.  Nora nervously stuck her face back in her textbook.

_I wonder what that's supposed to mean?!?_  "So … um … whatcha reading there, Nora?  Some technical book on robots or something, I bet.  Right?"

"Uh … sure, robots, whatever," she said, nervously – too nervously.  "I guess you've already heard, then … I'm sort of the school's resident 'Science Queen'.  Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I was just trying to read my textbook in peace, so if you don't mind ..."

Nora reached for her can of diet soda, but clumsily knocked it over.  A gush of liquid splashed all over the tabletop.  Panicking, she dropped the book she was reading and grabbed a handful of napkins, desperately trying to soak up the spill.  Jenny grabbed the textbook to keep it from getting wet – but then she realized that there was something else _inside_ of it.  Nora hadn't been reading the science text.  She'd been using it to hide a copy of … _Seventeen magazine_.

It felt as if the floor was going to drop out from under Jenny's feet.  The open page had an article with its title highlighted in yellow marker – _How to get that special guy's attention_.  Jenny cringed with disbelief.  "You're … you're reading … you're reading a …"

Poor Nora was blushing beet-red as she mopped up the rest of the spilt cola.  "Okay, okay, I'm busted," she sighed.  "Look, please … just don't laugh at me, Jenny.  If you promise not to tell anyone, I'll … I'll do your homework for a week.  Okay?"

Jenny groped her way to the table, figuring she should sit down before she fainted.  "Y-You don't have to do that – I won't tell anyone, honest.  So you're … you're actually _interested_ in a guy?"  Jenny asked the question as if it were the most unnatural thing she'd ever heard of.

Still terribly red-faced, Nora didn't answer, but her eyes unconsciously shot a glance across the room.  Jenny turned to see who she was looking at … and saw the tall, dark-haired boy from the Radio Shack.

"Sidney Wakeman?  From the electronics store?"  Jenny arched a confused eyebrow.  "Why would you need to get his attention?  Aren't you two already working together on that robot project?"

"Robot project?  Working together?  Where did you hear that?  Sidney doesn't even know I'm _alive_," moped Nora.  "In fact, I went over to that store yesterday, kind of hoping to ask him for help on my project.  I spent all day working up the nerve to go in and talk to him … and I wound up flat on my scrawny butt.  Oh, don't stress about it, Jenny.  I was just kidding myself anyway … a nice guy like Sidney would never want to spend any time with an ugly bowser like me."

"Don't say that!" gasped Jenny.  "You're supposed to work on that project together!  I mean – you _have_ to work on that project together!"

Nora gave Jenny a strange look.  "Uh … excuse me?  Why do you care, anyway?"

Jenny tried to calm down.  _Can't tell her the real reason._  "Because … well, since I caused so much trouble yesterday, I feel like I need to make it up to you.  Look, Sidney is sitting all alone, right over there.  Why don't you go talk to him right now?"  _Yikes, I'm giving 'guy advice' to my own mother!_

"Oh, no," said Nora, shaking her head.  "You know what they say about first impressions.  And Sidney Wakeman's first impression of me is of a pathetic dweeb sitting on the sidewalk with a red puffy face and a mutant banana nose dripping goop all over her sweater.  It was – _so_ – embarrassing.  No, I can never, ever face him again.  Gawd, I would just _die_!"

_Uh-oh.  This could be a little harder than I thought._  "Don't be such a drama queen, Mom … er … I mean, Nora.  I'll bet if you walked over to his table right now, he'd talk to you."

"What, right here and now?"  Nora broke into a sarcastic chuckle.  "Look, don't take this wrong way, Jenny, but that's easy for someone like _you_ to say.  Just look at you – you're tall and thin, with pretty hair and big beautiful eyes.  Girls like you can have any guy they want."

Jenny slapped her forehead.  _Sigh … Mom, if you only knew_.  "Well, then … don't think of him as a guy, then.  I mean, you're into science, right?  So you're just a scientist going over to talk to another scientist about science junk.  You could do that, right?

"Just a … scientist?"  Nora swallowed hard, and snuck another look at Sidney, four tables away.  Jenny fought the urge to pick her up and carry her over.  She'd never seen her mother get flustered at anything before – yet here she was, tying herself up in knots over a guy!  _Almost as if – sigh, almost as if she were a normal teenage girl.  _Nora ran her hands through her long brown hair, then grabbed the napkin dispenser, grinning into the shiny finish.  "Do I have anything in my teeth?"

"Your teeth look fine.  Look, nobody's sitting in the seat across from him.  Here's your chance!"

Nora steeled her nerves, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and got to her feet.  She took a few deep breaths, straightened her glasses, and smoothed the wrinkles out of her plaid skirt.  "Just one scientist to another," she whispered to herself.  She started walking towards the empty spot at the table …

But just before she got there, another girl cut right in front of her.  She was tall and slim, with short black hair, and wore an extremely fashionable stretch-top and capris pants that highlighted her feminine features.  She barely acknowledged Nora, giving her the briefest of sneers that nonverbally said _shouldn't-you-be-running-along-now?_  In every way, she was the beautiful swan to Nora's ugly duckling.  Lowering her chin into her chest, Nora sped past the table, and briskly slunked towards the exit of the cafeteria.

_No!!!  Mom, don't run away … arghh, what lousy timing!!!_  Jenny grimaced to herself, then turned her attention to the attractive new girl that stood across from Sidney.  She checked to make sure nobody was watching – then her eyes zoomed outwards a few inches, and she deployed a tiny parabolic dish from one of her fingers for eavesdropping.  _Darn it, if that girl hadn't walked up just then … wait a minute … there's something awfully familiar about her face …_

"Why, hello … er, Sidney, isn't it?"  Her voice swooned with a mild accent.  "You know, I see you all the time around school and we just never get a chance to talk!"

Sidney's head shot up, and his thin pasty face blazed a brilliant red.  "You're … you're talking to _me_?"

The girl rolled her eyes.  "Hmmm, yes … believe it or not, it would appear that I am.  Sidney, I understand that there's some sort of 'robot contest' scheduled for this Friday night.  Am I right?"

Sidney was still blushing furiously.  "Er … um … yeah, that's the big 'Robot Roundup' that the city's sponsoring.  There's going to be kids from all over Centerville and the tri-county area."

The girl subtly moistened her lips.  "Yes, I'm sure it'll be _grand_ fun.  Sidney, I'll cut to the chase … I'd like to be your team partner for this 'Robot Rhumba', or whatever it's called.  All of this technology is just so _very_ fascinating, and I would very much like to be part of it … with _you,_ of course."

Jenny's jaw nearly dropped off her face.  This girl was putting the moves on Mom's future husband … _man, that is so hard to say!_  Poor Sidney was practically hypnotized by her feminine wiles.  _Say 'no', Sidney!  Come on!  Come on!_

Sidney fumbled to brush a few crumbs off of his shirt.  "Well … I-I-I've been working on my entry all by myself for months now … I didn't realize that you were even interested in robotics, Brooke."

Brooke reached up seductively, and smoothed out Sidney's collar.  He was turning to putty in her hands.  "Oh, there's a lot you don't know about me, Sidney," she purred.  "And just to make things interesting … if you say 'yes', I'll go with you to Spring Formal next Saturday night.  So are we a team, then?'

"S-s-sure!" he blurted.  "Wow … uh … well, we should get together to work on my robot after school tonight, Brooke!  Wow, who would believe it!  Sidney Wakeman teaming up with Brooke Krust!"

Jenny had to grab onto the table to keep herself from falling over backwards.  _Krust!?!  That's who Brooke looks like … she looks just like Brit!  Oh, this is just so wrong!!!_  She watched, mortified, as Sidney stumbled away from the table and ran off with geekish excitement, possibly having just had the greatest experience of his life.  _This doesn't make any sense!_  Jenny certainly didn't know anything about Brooke Krust, but she sure didn't seem like the type of girl who'd be interested in building robots.  Brooke was gorgeous … someone you'd expect to be dating quarterbacks, not science nerds.

She refocused her eavesdropping dish – another popular girl strode up to Brooke, apparently thinking the same thing.  "Eww … Brooke, have you totally lost your mind?  Are you seriously thinking of taking that Poindexter to the Spring Formal?"

"Of course not," laughed Brooke.  "I'd get pimple cream all over my new dress from Paris.  But if I get my name in that silly Robot Rumble with Sidney, it'll be good for enough extra credit to keep me out of summer school.  Besides, all I need to do is give the little troll a wink and a wiggle every now and then, and he'll do all the work like a good little boy.  Then on Saturday, I crush him like a bug."  The girls shared an evil chuckle, and walked off together to the popular table.

With the faintest of whirrs, Jenny reeled in her eyes, retracted her dish, and slipped her glove back on.  "Why that no-good she-devil," she grumbled to herself, "she's a Krust, all right!"  _So now what do I do?  Heck, what can I do?_  She had to figure out a way to get some help for her mom, in time for that robot contest.  Back in her lab, she'd told Jenny that she would never have won without Sidney's computer help.  And on top of that, she had to figure out a way to get Sidney away from Brooke, and together with her mother, or else … _I don't know what would happen, but it would probably be bad._

She leaned her chin on her hands with a soft _clang_, which nobody heard, fortunately.  _How am I ever going to fix everything in just three days?  I need to find some help for Mom – but where am I going to find another braniac who knows all about computers?  And is somebody I can trust?_

"Excuse me?" squeaked a nasally voice.  "Um … excuse me?  Have you seen Nora anywhere?"

Jenny looked up … to be blown away by yet another familiar, pimply face.  "_Sh-Sheldon!?!_"

The young boy pushed his greasy bangs out of his eyes, then wiped his hand clean on his black T-shirt, which was printed with the strange words _All Your Base are Belong To Us_.  He looked almost exactly like Sheldon … except his hair was a bit longer in the back.  "No … no, my name is Sherman.  I'm looking for Nora.  She usually sits here at lunch, and she was going to let me borrow one of her books …"

Jenny gasped.  "You're Doctor Sherman Lee!  From the university!"  _It's Sheldon's grandfather!_

Sherman seemed to take it as a compliment.  "Well, I _am_ taking a few advanced placement courses at the university, but I'm a few years away from being 'Dr. Lee'," he chuckled, trying to sound as cool as possible.  It wasn't often that anybody new sat in the back of the cafeteria at the 'nerd table', let alone a tall, attractive, dark-haired … heh-heh … _girl_.  "So … what's _your_ name?"

"I'm Jenny Wake- … er, just call me Jenny."  She grabbed him by the T-shirt.  "Sherman, you're like, a genius, right?  Are you really good with computers and physics and robotics and stuff?"

A huge grin spread across his face.  "Well, I don't like to brag, but … the word 'expert' does get tossed around."

"And you're good friends with my mo- … I mean, with Nora?"

"Well, I guess so.  We're in all the enriched classes together, we're both in the chess club, and I see her every month at the Linux Users Group meeting."  Sherman arched his eyebrows at her.  "So … are you new around here?  You must be – I'm sure I'd remember seeing somebody as _beautiful_ as you."

Jenny moaned to herself.  _Well, now I know where Sheldon gets it from_.  But Sherman's clumsy attempt at seduction was giving her an idea.  This was going to be a rather nasty trick, but Sherman could be just the type of person she was looking for.

Jenny tilted her head, giving the teenage geek a flirty glance out of the corners of her eyes.  "Sherman, this is going to sound really, really strange, but I need your help with something very important.  Nora is in big trouble.  And I'm in big trouble.  And I'm looking for a …" – she gulped, and turned on the charm – "… big, smart guy like you, who can help out a girl in need."

The bell rang to signal the end of lunch hour.  "Rats, the bell!  I have to get to class."  Then Sherman leaned towards her, fluttering his eyelids.  "But I always have time for a damsel in distress.  Tell you what, maybe we can discuss this further after school.  Say, over a refreshing double mocha cappachino?"

Jenny winced, staring into the familiar pasty-faced grin; all she could think was, _I'm making a date with an eighty-five-year-old man!  Gross!  But I don't have a lot of choices … aughhhh_ … "Sure, that sounds … heh-heh … _great_, Sherman.  See you after school."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Five

* * *


	5. Future Shock

A/N – Sorry for the little hiatus there.  A few readers actually e-mailed to see if I was okay; thanks for the concern, but I was just taking a much-needed vacation from work and computers.  I enjoyed an extended Memorial Day vacation dipping my toes in the ocean off the shores of North Carolina.  _Ahhh_.  By the way, a drawing of the characters is up on my DA account now.

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Five – Future Shock

* * *

Jenny did recognize _some_ things in downtown Centerville.  Major streets, and buildings like banks and police stations, were in the exact same locations that Jenny expected to find them.  This allowed her to start making a computerized map in her mind, comparing old Centerville with modern Tremorton.  So when Sherman led her around a certain downtown corner for their "date", she realized that they were going to a familiar after-school hangout for teenagers.  A warm smile spread across her face.  In the middle of all this time-travel craziness, it would feel good to relax for a while in …

"_What!?!_" she shouted.  "Sherman, why are you taking me into a _bank_?"

Sherman blinked in confusion a few times.  "Um … what are you talking about, Jenny?"

"The sign on this building says _Star Bucks_," she protested.  "I thought you were taking me for coffee.  'Starbucks' is like, what, an intergalactic bank?"

A loud chortle blasted from Sherman's throat.  "Wow, you're funny _and_ beautiful!  Let's grab a seat before all the good tables get taken."

As they walked though the doors, sure enough, the building was filled with tables, chairs, even comfy sofas … and lots of teenagers and college-aged kids, all drinking varieties of coffee.  Jenny noticed a small plaque on the wall by the front counter which read "Starbucks franchise number 15493 – Angus Mezmer, owner/manager."  _I knew this place felt familiar … I guess it just won't be Mezmer's for another sixty or seventy years!_

Sherman bought a pair of steaming mocha cappuccinos, and strolled back to their table, trying to look as sophisticated as possible.  He slid a steaming cup over to Jenny.  "I made sure yours got extra whipped cream," he smiled, wiggling his eyebrows.  "And chocolate sprinkles."

Jenny plopped down in her seat with a _groan_.  "Thanks, Sherman, I'll drink it in a second.  Now … as I was trying to tell you back in the cafeteria, Nora and I are in a bit of trouble."

"… and you need a big smart guy like me to help you," Sherman grinned through a frothy mustache.  Then he took another swig of coffee, making a loud _slorping_ sound.

"Heh-heh … _riiiight_.  See … Nora has this robot gizmo thing that she's working on for the competition on Friday night."

"The Robot Roundup.  Yeah, I guess that's just three days away now."

"Right.  And Sidney Wakeman was supposed to help her with her robot.  I think she said that the software needed some work."

Sherman glugged down the rest of his mocha.  "That makes sense.  Sidney is like, a super genius when it comes to computer software.  He even works with artificial intelligence and stuff."

"But that's the problem," Jenny continued excitedly.  "Sidney was _supposed_ to work together with Nora, but now he's teaming up with Brooke Krust.  She's just using him to avoid summer school!  And if Sidney doesn't help Nora, then Nora won't win the contest!  And Nora _has_ to win the contest!  And she's supposed to do it with Sidney!  See, she has to get together with Sidney, or else they'll never get …"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute."  Sherman waved his arms to slow her down.  "You're not making any sense.  And aren't you even going to drink your coffee?"

_I don't think it would do wonders for my oil pan._  "Ummmmm … I think it's still too hot.  Anyway, like I was trying to tell you …"

"Well here, just take the top off and let it cool down."  Sherman leaned over the table, and removed the plastic cover from the large paper cup …

Just as a deep rumbling sound started to build underneath the floor.  Everyone in the coffee house noticed it, like a distant rolling thunder.  Then the room was filled with the sounds of cups and silverware clattering.  The tables began to vibrate, and the hanging planters swayed gently from the ceiling.  It was another minor earthquake – _just like the one that hit town last night before I went to sleep_, realized Jenny.  A few mugs vibrated their way off of their tables, and crashed to the floor.  Jenny's mocha started to tip over as well …

Sherman lunged to save it – but instead, he knocked the full cup of hot beverage onto Jenny's left arm, soaking her glove and the sleeve of her sweater.  Jenny yanked her arm away, wincing in discomfort … but it wasn't the heat that bothered her.  Being doused in liquid was causing small short circuits to dance up and down her left arm.

"Oh no, I'm so stupid!" shouted Sherman.  "Stupid stupid stupid!"  He grabbed a glass of ice water from a neighboring table – thinking that he had just scalded Jenny's arm.  "Just hold still … this cold water will relieve the burning sensation!"

"What are you …"  Before she could stop him, Sherman slid up her sleeve, and poured the water onto her arm.  "Sherman, NO …"

FRRRRZZZZAAAAPPPP

The electric shock sent Sherman rocketing backwards, knocking over a table and sending another two students to the floor.  Horrified, Jenny leapt out of her chair and rushed to his side.  His eyes were closed, and his muscles were twitching, and wisps of smoke drifted from his hair.  Jenny started to grow concerned.  Nobody had ever gotten a really serious electrical shock from her before, and she couldn't be sure if Sherman was in any danger.  She needed to give him a quick medical scan …

One of the students pointed in Jenny's direction.  "Hey … uh … what's up with your arm?"

Her sleeve was still pushed up, and visible sparks of electricity could be seen leaping from Jenny's metal skin.  _Oh, cripes … I've gotta get out of here._  She wrapped an arm around Sherman's shoulders, and helped him to his feet.  He was still conscious, if a bit groggy, and it proved to be a challenge to help him stumble his way out of the coffee shop.  She half-dragged him around the corner and into an alleyway.

Jenny tried to deploy her medical sensors, but she couldn't unfold the panels on her arm with the turtleneck sweater on.  _I guess this is why Mom won't let me have clothes.  I never realized that they were so inconvenient._  She quickly pulled off the gloves and rolled the sleeves up to her shoulders.  With a quick series of _clicks_ and _whirrs_, her elbow cracked open and her wrist opened up, converting her lower arm into a multi-purpose health scanner, complete with heart monitor.  Wires snaked out from her fingertips, connecting sensor pads to Sherman's temples and his chest.

Sherman's eyes fluttered briefly, then he opened them with a moan.  "Wow, did anybody get the license plate number of that truck?"

"Sherman!" grinned Jenny.  "Whew, what a relief.  I was afraid that you …"

He felt something cool and metallic pressing against his forehead.  There were small metal pads on his temples, which had wires connected to them … wires which were coming out of the fingers of Jenny's hand – her very _inhuman_ hand.  He stared in bewilderment at the dozens of small rods and panels which had unfolded from Jenny's metallic arm – then shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Oh boy, oh boy …"  Jenny desperately tried to calm him down.  "Umm … I have a perfectly good explanation for this … sort of …"

"You're made of _metal_," babbled Sherman.  "You're … you're some kind of bionic cyborg!  Stay back!  Stay back, I said!  Please don't shock me again!"  His chest began to heave, and Jenny worried about the attention that more shouting would generate …

But Sherman didn't shout.  He started breathing in heavy, ragged gasps.  His eyes bulged out of their sockets, and he clutched his hands to his chest in a panic.  His lips moved, but the only sound coming from them was a high-pitched wheezing.  Finally, he managed to gurgle out one word … "Asthma."

Jenny was stunned, and sympathetic at the same time.  Everyone knew that asthma was an ancient disease that had been wiped out by modern medicine, like whooping cough or tuberculosis – but apparently not yet, not in the year 2004.  She grabbed Sherman by the arms, and looked directly into his face.  "Look, I know this must be really freaky for you, but you've got to believe me – I'm not going to hurt you.  Now tell me – do you need to go to the hospital?"

He seemed to calm down a bit, enough to speak another sentence.  "Need my breather – forgot it – back at my house."

After a little more assurance, and coaxing, Sherman managed to tell Jenny what his address was.  Quickly checking the new map in her brain, Jenny realized with relief that she would be able to find Sherman's house.  He needed to get to his medicine as soon as possible.  After pulling off her wig and storing it in her belly, a section of her head flipped open, deploying her pigtail-jets.  Sherman's eyes grew wide as a pair of blue flames blasted from the nozzles.  She wrapped an arm around his waist, and before he even realized what was happening, they shot into the cloudy sky at a terrific speed.

* * *

Standing in his bedroom, thirty hair-raising seconds later, Sherman clutched his breather in an iron grip with both hands, huffing into it as if it were an emergency scuba tank.  His asthma attack had subsided, but his brain couldn't come to grips with what had happened to him over the past five minutes.  He stumbled backwards and sat down on the corner of his bed, staring at Jenny with complete fascination.

Jenny looked on nervously.  "Feeling better?" she asked hopefully.

He was calming down, but still could not break his stare.  "Who … who are you … _what_ are you?!?"

"My name really _is_ Jenny.  As for _what_ … well, I guess I might as well show you.  Besides, this stupid turtleneck is still soaking wet."  Jenny started to take off her sweater, then realized that Sherman's eyes were still locked onto her with laser-like focus.  "Hey, umm … do you mind turning around, or something?  Give a girl a little privacy?"

"Uh … oh, sorry," blushed Sherman.  He clasped his hands over his eyes.

Jenny peeled off her second-hand clothing and draped it over the back of a chair to dry.  She took a moment to calm down – there was no going back once she revealed her true self – but she figured that she had to trust somebody here in 2004, and it probably made sense to choose a science geek.  "Okay, Sherman, you can look now."

He renewed his stare of utter disbelief, stunned into silence by the six-and-a-half foot marvel of blue-and-white steel that stood in front of him.  But the fear was gone from his face now.  In its place was a huge toothy grin, full of wonder and amazement.  Jenny extended her arms, letting Sherman watch as her elbows cracked open and deployed at first a laser limb, then a rotating radar dish, and then a pair of giant clamps.  Finally her hands and arms returned to normal, and she activated her anti-grav gyros, hovering a few inches above the floor.

"Unbelievable," Sherman mumbled.  "You're a robot!"

"Ever since I got switched on, back in the lab," she chuckled nervously.

"And you can walk and talk, and think, and fly, and deploy all those … whatever-they-are-things out of your arms and hands!"  Sherman was beaming.  On a nerd scale of one to ten, a walking, talking robot girl with lasers in her arms ranked somewhere around a forty-six.  "Wow … are you like a top secret government weapons project?"

"Well, I guess I do have quite a few weapons," she said awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck.  "But I only use them to save the Earth.  That's what I'm programmed to do!  And I don't belong to the government.  I don't belong to anyone except myself.  Well – and my mom, I suppose."

"Come again?" he said with a squint.  "Your _mom_?!?"

"Well, she did build me in her lab, so I've always called her 'Mom'."

"Hold on, hold on.  One person built you?  Who on Earth could build a robot as sophisticated as you?"

Jenny laughed nervously.  "Ah … heh-heh … _Nora_."

Sherman blinked a few times.  "_Nora_ built you?"

"Well, she will …" – _gulp_ – "… a little over sixty years from now."

"Sixty years from now …"  Sherman's face glazed over into a joyous stupor.  "Are you trying to tell me that you can travel through time, too?  Oh, boy!  A cute robot girl from the future that gets sent back in time.  Just like in Terminator 3!  Uh, without the whole destoy-the-human-race thing, I hope."

"No, no … I can't travel through time," she explained.  "There was a … little _mishap_ … with my mom's time machine."

"Nora built a _time machine_ all by herself, too?!?!?"  Sherman grew more amazed by the second.

"She built the machine by herself, but it's powered by an artificial black hole.  Mom didn't create that … um … heh-heh … _you_ did."

That was a little much for Sherman to take.  His eyes spun in their sockets, and his mind started kicking into overdrive.  "Back in the cafeteria, you called me 'Doctor Sherman Lee, from the university.'  Are you telling me that I'm actually going to build my very own black hole?  I was just reading an article in _Scientific American_ last week about black holes and space-time.  Oh, wow.  Oh, wow.  Wait a minute – before you called me Dr. Lee, you called me 'Sheldon'.  Who the heck is Sheldon?  Somebody else you know in the future?"

"Yeah, you could say that," said Jenny, rolling her eyes.  "We go to high school together.  He's your … well, he's your _grandson_."

"_Grandson._"  A dopey smile wiggled onto Sherman's face.  "Do you know what this means?  This means that I must finally get a _date_ sometime in the future!  Oh, wow …  this is just too much.  This is just too much to believe."

Jenny scratched her head, trying to think of something else to help convince Sherman of her story.  Then she got an idea.  "Here, take a look at this."  She opened up the door on her abdomen, and deployed a large magnifying lens from the top of her head.  Jenny twisted the flexible arm of the lens so that Sherman could read through it.  "Look at the tiny writing that's etched on the inside of my belly."

He squinted a bit, then made out the words.  "Global Robotic Response Unit XJ-9 …"

Jenny folded her arms with a huff.  "_Ugh_, that's what Mom calls me.  Keep going."

Sherman continued.  "… Activated September 19, 2068.  Designer/Engineer: Dr. Nora Wakeman."  He raised a pensive hand to his chin.  "Nora _Wakeman_ … oh, wow.  Nora and Sidney?  Nora and Sidney get married?  Unbelievable.  I didn't even know they liked each other."

"Oh, believe me, my mom likes Sidney a lot."  Jenny still felt uneasy believing that her mother was even capable of crushing on a guy.  "In fact, they were _supposed_ to work together on her robot project.  She told me all about it back in her lab.  I'm not sure, but … maybe that's how they fell in love.  Figures that two geeks would fall in love over a computer keyboard and circuit boards.  Except I … think I might have messed things up when I bumped into my mom yesterday."

A grave look of realization dawned on Sherman's face.  "So _that's_ why you kept saying that they were _supposed_ to work together …"

"And my mom is supposed to win the contest on Friday night," continued Jenny.  "After that, she devotes her life to studying robots, goes to college, and becomes a world famous scientist."

Sherman reached for a can of cola on his computer desk, cracked it open, and started drinking it warm.  He was deep in thought.  "This might be a problem for you, Jenny.  It's the classic time travel paradox.  You go back in time and do something to prevent your mom and dad from getting together, and then you never get born!  But since you weren't really born … I'm not what that means for you.  Maybe you never get designed or built.  Whatever happens, it could severely throw your future out of whack."

She gulped, loudly.  "I don't think I like the sound of that.  B-b-but I'm still here, right?  So everything must still be okay.  Right?"

Something caught Sherman's eye.  "Hey, what's this here inside your … uh … stomach?"

"That's just my disguise," Jenny said, as she grabbed the wig and tossed it next to her clothes.  Then she realized that there was something else in there as well.  She quickly rummaged around, and found the copy of _Time Magazine_ … the one with the story about her.  "Oh, I forgot this was in here!  Take a look at this.  See the date on the cover?  It's says March 17th, 2074.  That's where – er, _when_ – I came from."

Sherman started thumbing through the pages of the magazine.  "News … from the future!  Unbelievable … 'Congress passes bill giving clones the right to vote' … 'Mars celebrates ten years of independence from Earth' … 'World leaders debate Cluster threat to world safety'.  'Cluster?'  What's a 'Cluster'?"

"Trust me, you don't want to know," she moaned.  "There's a story in there about me!  I saved a space station last week.  Rescued fifty-five astronauts!  There's pictures and everything."

He quickly leafed through the rest of the magazine, then double-checked the index at the front.  "I don't see any stories about a robot girl saving a space station."

"_What?!?_  I know it's in there," she protested.  "Let me think for a second … check page fifty-three."

Sherman flipped to the appropriate page.  It wasn't a story about Jenny saving a space station.  It was a feature article in the magazine's business section.  He stared for a few seconds, dumbstruck, then finally managed to speak.  "Is that … Vinny Mogg?"

Jenny snatched the magazine away from Sherman.  The bold headline announced: "Mogg Technologies Completes Hostile Takeover of IBM."  Below it was a color picture of a smiling Phinneas Mogg – but instead of wearing a white scientist's smock and rubber gloves, her wore an expensive Italian suit.  Mogg was leaning against the "IBM" logo, with a group of robots standing around him that she didn't recognize.  Horror gripped at her electronic brain.  "This is wrong … this is all _wrong_!"

She quickly glanced over the article.  "One of the oldest and largest companies in history was purchased this week by Mogg Technologies, the global robotics juggernaut.  Even after the purchase, company president and CEO Phinneas Mogg, widely known as one of the greatest geniuses of the 21st century, is still the wealthiest man in the world.  With the acquisition of IBM, Mogg Technologies now holds a virtual monopoly on the construction of robots.  Over ninety percent of the robots built and used in the solar system are manufactured by Mogg Technologies …"

Jenny's cheeks began to turn red with anger.  "That rotten no-good lying weasel," she fumed.  "He's the reason I'm back here in the past, Sherman!  Phinneas Mogg is a professor at the university, just like you.  But when my mom invented her time machine, he got jealous and stole it to come back to the year 2004.  He's done something to change history!  I knew he was lying to me yesterday … why that …"

Sherman interrupted her.  "Umm … Jenny … check the next page."

She looked across to the facing page.  "Big deal, it's just an advertisement …"  Then she felt the hydraulic fluid in her veins run cold.  It was a huge color advertisement for Mogg Robotics.

And there was a picture of _her_ in the ad.  Holding … a _vacuum cleaner_?

"Mogg Robotics – our robots work hard, so you don't have to!  Tired of fighting to keep the house clean?  Struggling to keep up with the hectic pace of modern life?  Free yourself and free up your time!  Now with zero-down financing, your family can be the next to own their very own 'Jenny'!  From the name you trust in robots, the 'Jenny' is our most popular domestic care robot in production today!  It's fully programmed for housecleaning, food preparation, and new for 2074 – infant care!  And remember, when you buy Mogg, you're buying safety.  The 'Jenny' has the best safety record on the market – state-of-the-art obedience circuits guarantee that your 'Jenny' will follow any orders you give it!"

She stumbled backwards onto the bed, with her eyes shrunk to a pair of pinpoints.  "Your 'Jenny' will receive continued updates and technical support for the life of the warranty.  And with over _forty million_ satisfied 'Jenny' owners, you can be sure that you'll be in good company!"

Her voice quivered as she looked up from the magazine.  "I'm … I'm a robot maid."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Six

* * *


	6. My Life as a Teenage Nora

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Six – My Life as a Teenage Nora

* * *

Jenny stared in disbelief at the strange new advertisement in the magazine.  Then she finished reading the feature story about Phinneas Mogg.  She had suspected that Mogg had come back in time to change history, and now she had the proof in her hands.  Now it was Mogg, not Nora Wakeman, who apparently won the Robot Roundup, became famous, and went on to become the greatest robot scientist of the 21st century.  Through his many inventions, he had built a huge multinational company called Mogg Robotics, which had made him the richest man in the world.  And worst of all – in the new, altered version of 2074 – Jenny had not been created in Mrs. Wakeman's laboratory.  She'd been built as one of millions of housecleaning robots in a Mogg Robotics factory.

She clutched her pigtails in exasperation.  "Aiighh, what am I going to do?  I don't wanna be a maid!  I don't want to spend the rest of my life vacuuming carpets and cleaning windows!"

Sherman paced back in forth in his bedroom, deep in thought, drinking another can of warm soda.  Jenny could see his eyes twitching back and forth as his brain wrapped itself around the amazing situation he found himself in.  "Okay, don't panic.  Now, I've read a few textbooks about the fabric of space and time, I've taken some college courses, and I've seen all three _Back to the Future_ movies and eighty-two episodes of _Doctor Who_.  I don't think the changes to history are permanent yet … after all, it still says 'Designed by Dr. Nora Wakeman' on the inside of your belly.  But that could change.  We need to make repairs to the timeline as soon as possible!"

He raised his hand, in a melodramatic sweeping gesture.  "Number one, we have to make sure that Nora wins the Centerville Robot Roundup on Friday night!  And number two, we have to get Nora and Sidney to fall in love with each other, sometime in the next three days."

Sherman was boiling over with enthusiasm, and had a million questions he wanted to ask Jenny - but twilight was already starting to fall, and he realized that it might be a bad idea for him to know too much about his own future.  He offered to let her stay in his room, but she insisted that she sleep in the garage.  It was a bit unpleasant hidden behind the minivan, but it would have been more uncomfortable to sleep in a boy's bedroom.  Especially when the boy was eighty-six years old.

* * *

Jenny and Sherman quickly hurried along the sidewalk, heading across town towards the Smegglewyck house.  She was relieved to be back outside, wearing her wig and second-hand clothes.  It had actually been pretty boring spending most of Wednesday wandering about town; almost all the kids were in school.  She had wanted to go back to the high school to hang out, but Sherman had felt that it was simply too dangerous to interact with any more people from her history.  Jenny had reluctantly agreed.  They didn't want to do any more damage to the past, if they could avoid it.

"So did you see Nora and Sidney at lunch today, Sherman?" she asked.

"Well, I've got good news, and I've got bad news," he answered, as they ran across a busy intersection.  "The good news is, Nora agreed to let me help her with the computer programming in her robot's brain.  I'm not as good as Sidney is, but I'm not too shabby.  Once we get over to her house, we can go to work down in her basement."

"All right, that takes care of her robot."  Jenny arched an eyebrow, as a bizarre thought occurred to her.  "Wait a minute – if you wind up helping Nora with her robot, instead of Sidney, doesn't that mean that _you two_ will fall in love and get married?"  _That would mean that back in the future, Sheldon winds up being my brother.  Or is it my nephew?  Gahhh, this is just too weird!_

Sherman clutched nervously onto his laptop computer.  "I don't think that's going to happen, Jenny.  Nora and I have known each other for a couple of years, but we're just friends.  I think she really does still like Sidney Wakeman.  Umm ... and that's the bad news."

"Well, how can that be bad news?  We _want_ her to like him."

"Yeah, but while we were talking in the school library, Sidney came in to check out a book – and Brooke Krust was with him.  She's got Sidney completely bamboozled."  Sherman tried to sound sympathetic.  "I guess I can hardly blame Sid – he's never really had much luck with girls, so he must be really flattered by the attention.  But Nora saw them together, and she ran off crying, out of the library."

"Poor Mom," said Jenny, surprising herself.  She would never have thought her mother capable of getting her heart broken … of course, there were times she wasn't sure she even _had_ a heart.  "But she must realize that Brooke isn't serious about Sidney, right?"

"We'll find out in a few seconds," he answered, "this is her house."

They stopped in front of an unassuming two-story tan-and-green house with a modest front lawn.  Jenny had to take a moment to collect herself; she'd already met Nora twice here in the year 2004, but it was still amazing to her that she was about to meet her mother as a young girl.  _But come on – this is still Mom, after all_.  She was probably already working away on her science gizmo robot whatever-it-was, with her nose stuck in a mess of wires, fiddling with gears and motors and circuit boards, just like Jenny had seen her do hundreds of times back at home in her lab.

Sherman rang the doorbell, and a middle-aged woman with short white hair and a long nose answered the door.  She wore a modest, simple dress that could be described as old-fashioned, even in the year 2004.  _Hi there, Grandma_, Jenny smiled to herself.  "Nora!" yelled the woman.  "Young lady, you have guests at the front door!"

A pair of feet loudly _clomped_ down the wooden stairs, making a deliberate _stomp_ with every step.  Nora had a foul expression on her face, and made no attempt to hide the vile mood she was in.  She stopped a few steps from the bottom, saw Sherman standing in the doorway, and heaved her shoulders with a sarcastic _sigh_.  "You sure didn't waste any time getting over here," she huffed.  "I just got home from school five minutes ago.  Why do you even care so much about a stupid hunk of junk, anyway?  It's all just a big waste of time!"

"Nora!" gasped her mother.  "That is no way to behave with guests in the house!  Come down here this instant and invite your little friends in!  Ask them if they'd like a nice glass of milk."

Nora slapped her forehead, and rolled her eyes in frustration.  "Mo-_therrr_!  Could you _possibly_ be a little more embarrassing?  Sherman, thanks for coming over, but you can go home if you want.  I'm not going to waste any more time on that stupid robot.  _Gawd_, I never want to see another robot again for the rest of my life!"  And with that, she flew back up the stairs.  Jenny and Sherman winced as the sound of a slamming bedroom door rang through the house like a cannon shot.

Nora's mother smiled apologetically, and turned to Sherman and Jenny.  "I'm very sorry – Nora's not usually like this.  She's been a little upset for some reason these past few days …"

Jenny was speechless.  It was a bad omen to hear the woman who built her say that she never wanted to see another robot for the rest of her life.  But even more stunning – she couldn't believe that Nora had just told off her own mother, right in front of them!

"Sherman, go down to the basement and set up your laptop computer," she instructed.  "We only have two nights to fix things, and you can't afford to lose any time.  I'll … I'll go upstairs and see if I can talk some sense into my mom."

While Sherman sweet-talked Nora's mother into a slice of freshly baked pie, Jenny gingerly walked up the stairs, wondering what on earth she was going to do.  Everything about this little misadventure in time just kept getting weirder and weirder and weirder.  She crept down the dimly lit corridor, approaching the innocent-looking door at the end of the hallway with equals parts dread and utter fascination.  She felt like an archeologist, about to explore some mythical ancient tomb; who knows what strange wonders lie on the other side of that door?  But Jenny didn't expect to be too surprised.  Even though Nora was fifteen years old, Jenny still imagined that her bedroom must've been outfitted with test tubes and scientific equipment, like a university lab.

After a moment's hesitation, Jenny gently rapped on the bedroom door.  "Umm … Nora?  It's Jenny.  Remember?  I talked to you yesterday, at lunchtime."

There was no answer, and after a minute's silence, it was obvious that there wasn't going to be.  Was Nora mad at her, for some reason?  Jenny knocked again, and when there was _still_ no answer, she gently turned the knob, and eased the door open.  She couldn't believe her eyes.

The bedroom was a complete mess.  Clothes were lying all over the floor; a hamper was overflowing with piles of underwear.  The walls were covered with colorful posters; many had a science theme, including a large photograph of Albert Einstein.  But right next to him was a poster of somebody named Christina Aguilera.  She didn't _look_ like a scientist.  Nora was lying on her bed, with her head dangling over the edge of the mattress; her long, frizzled hair spilled down onto the floor in a tangled mess.  She was wearing a large pair of headphones, which were plugged into a boombox that was turned up to high volume.  She bounced one foot to the beat of her music, oblivious to her surroundings.

Jenny flung her arms in the air, forgetting herself for a moment.  "Geez … when _I_ do this, you yell your head off at me!"

The gesture caught Nora's attention; her surprise nearly knocked her onto the floor.  She quickly jumped up, turned off her boombox, and yanked off her headphones in one rapid motion.  She looked almost embarrassed.  Her hair was frazzled, and it was apparent that she'd been crying.  "Oh, I'm sorry … I didn't know it was you, Jenny."

Quickly slipping back into character, Jenny nervously rubbed the back of her head.  "I didn't mean to surprise you like that.  It's just … well, you looked really upset downstairs, and I was wondering if maybe you might like to … talk about it."

"There's not much to talk about," huffed Nora.  She flopped herself back onto her bed.  "I'm guessing that Sherman must have told you what happened in the library today.  I feel like such an idiot."

Jenny cautiously sat down on a swivel chair, and turned to face her mother.  "Don't say that, Nora!  Look … sure, you're upset about Sidney.  But he probably doesn't even know that he hurt you.  Right now, that _witch_ Brooke Krust is leading him around by the nose."

"Wow … sounds like you've had some bad experiences with Brooke Krust," said Nora.

"Or something like that," said Jenny, rolling her eyes.  "But the important thing is, you shouldn't take it out on Sidney.  It's not personal – he's not trying to hurt you."

"Of course it's not personal," Nora groaned, apparently very much in the mood to vent.  "That's the whole point.  It's impossible to get _personal_ when you don't even know that someone's even _alive_!"

Nora gestured towards the far side of the bedroom, which was covered by a set of large wooden bookcases.  The shelves were filled with thick books on a variety of scientific topics, and it looked very much like something Jenny would expect to see in her mother's room.  But Nora grabbed an overstuffed pillow, and hurled it at the bookcase with contempt.  "But then again, why _would_ he know?  I spend all my time reading books about science, and physics, and math.  I'm the 'Science Queen', remember?  Sure, I get straight A's on every report card.  Fat lot of good _that_ does me on Saturday nights."

"But … b-but I thought you liked science!  Isn't that why you work with robots?"

"Robots?  _Pfft_!"  Nora folded her arms with a sarcastic expression.  "That's all my mom's idea.  She says robots are going to be really big someday, like computers and the Internet.  She says that if I study and work hard, it'll pay off for me later in life.  Well, robots might be big in the future, but all I know is, they're pretty lame right now!"

Nora reached under another one of her pillows, and stunned Jenny by pulling out an issue of _YM Magazine_.  She looked at the cover, which showed a trio of impossibly beautiful teenage girls having fun in their impossibly fashionable summer clothing.  She heaved her shoulders with another deep sigh.

"Mom never lets me do anything but study and read.  Would an afternoon off cause any harm?  But no … it's always, 'Nora, finish your homework!  Work on your science project!  But be back in your room before five!'  Meanwhile, no one even knows my name.  I want to have friends, and hang out like normal teenagers do!  But who would want to hang out with a dumpy science nerd like me?"

Jenny blinked her eyes a few times – _hmmm, this all sounds very familiar, for some reason –_ then quickly shook herself back to reality.  "Well … you know, it's actually pretty neat that you're so smart, Nora.  And it is kind of important to do well in school.  You should be proud of yourself."

That didn't seem to make an impression on Nora.  She flopped over backwards, dropping her head in a pile of pillows.  "Mom just doesn't understand how much pressure there is, being a high school student these days.  And it's worse when you're supposed to be smart, like me!  For every other kid in class, if they came home with a 99 or an A-minus for an average, their parents would probably buy them a new car.  My parents would say 'What went wrong?'"

Jenny had never seen her mother like this before – and found herself actually feeling a bit sorry for her.  Seventy years from now, Nora was going to tell her robotic daughter about how high school was one non-stop party.  Apparently, she felt a little differently here in the past, when she was actually _in_ high school.  As much as she wanted to agree with Nora, she had to find a way to steer her back towards her robot project.  "Your mom seems like a really nice lady.  I'm sure she just wants what's best for you."

"Yeah, that's what she always says," sighed Nora.  "How in the world would she know what's best for me, anyway?  She doesn't understand what it's like to be a modern teenager.  Things have changed a little bit since she went to high school, back in the _Stone Age_."

Suddenly Nora hopped off the bed, with a mischievous smile on her face.  "Let's get out of this dump, Jenny.  We can sneak past my mom while she's in the kitchen.  We can go hang out at the mall and see if there's any cute guys in the food court."  She grabbed onto Jenny's arm.  "Wow, you must work out.  You're arm's like _steel_!  Not an ounce of fat on you.  You are _so_ lucky."

Jenny snatched her arm away, completely flustered by Nora's behavior.  "What?  I mean … you can't sneak out!  You have to go to work on your robot project, for the big contest on Friday night!"

Nora's face twisted in disbelief.  "Robot project?!?  Geez, I've wasted enough of my life on that miserable hunk of junk.  Come on, let's go have some fun!"

_So much for, 'there are more important things in life than fun!'_  "But if you don't fix it, then you'll never win the contest!  And if you don't win the contest … um … well, you might regret it – later in life."  _And so will I!_  "It would be a shame to throw away all the work you've already put into it."

Nora gave her a nasty glare.  "Cripes, Jenny … you sound just like my mother."

That threw Jenny's mind for a loop.  She couldn't believe how different Nora was than what she'd expected.  Well, what _had_ she expected?  She'd only known her mother for the past five years of her life, and for all of them, she was an old widow scientist.  So she figured that young Nora would be … well, just a younger version of an old widow scientist.  But teenage Nora was moody, and rebellious towards her mother, and sick of school, and crushing like crazy on a boy – well, a nerd, but technically he was still a boy.  In other words, she was behaving like –

A teenager.

Jenny raised a gloved finger to her chin, and an idea started to germinate in her devious little electronic brain.  _I've got to stop treating Mom like Mom, and start treating her like a teenager._

"Actually, you know what, Nora?" she smiled.  "You're absolutely right.  You definitely deserve some 'mall time'.  It'll be good for you.  But what do you say we get you fixed up first?"

"Now you're talking!" smiled Nora, rejoicing in her impending little revolt against schoolwork.  Jenny stood up and let Nora sit in the swivel chair, and pivoted her around to face a large mirror on her dresser.  Her face was still puffy from twin streams of tears, but her mood had instantly improved.  "Yeesh, it's going to take the rest of the night just to make me halfway decent.  No wonder Sidney doesn't notice me!  Why would he look at me when he's got Posh Spice hanging off of his arm?"

"Oh, I think you're too hard on yourself," said Jenny, trying to keep the conversation upbeat.  She grabbed a hairbrush from the dresser, and stood behind Nora's chair.  Then she slipped off a glove, grasped the hairbrush in her robotic hand, and started rotating it with a soft _whirr_ of her motors.  "Brooke doesn't have nice long brown hair, like you do  Let's see if we can't straighten out those split ends.  No peeking!  Just sit back and relax."

Nora closed her eyes, and giggled.  "Oooh, that feels really good."

"See, you feel better already!"  And, Jenny noted, Nora looked like she was starting to relax.  _Good.  Now to pull a little reverse psychology on my own mother.  Heh, heh, heh._  "Who cares about Sidney what's-his-name and that little tramp, Brooke?"

"Not me!" Nora smiled, playfully punching the air with her first.

"So what if Brooke's the prettiest and the _smartest_ girl in school?  She probably spends hours and hours in the bathroom every morning.  How self-absorbed is that?"

"You know, you're right, Jenny … that is so pathetic …"  Suddenly Nora's head snapped up.  "Wait a minute.  What do you mean, 'smartest girl in school'?"

"Hmm?" said Jenny, as innocently as she could.  "Oh, that's just what I heard her say earlier today."

Nora turned around, with an annoyed look on her face.  "What _who_ said?"

_Time to dangle the bait._  "Oh, I overheard Brooke Krust at lunch today, bragging that everybody already knew she was the prettiest girl in school – and once she wins that silly robot contest on Friday night, everybody will know she's the smartest girl in school, too."  _Gotta keep a straight face …_

"Smartest girl in school!?!"  Nora was nearly apoplectic at the mere thought of it.  "That blow-dried bimbo wouldn't know a soldering iron from a curling iron!  Where in blazes does she get off saying stuff like that?  Smartest girl in school … the _nerve_!"

"So what's the big crisis?" shrugged Jenny, fighting to keep from chuckling out loud.  "You don't care about all that science and robot junk anymore, right?  It's just a bunch of stuff you hate, that your mom makes you do."

"Well … I never said I actually _hated_ it …"

"So what if Brooke says that, not only are nerds ugly and dateless, but they're not even that smart?"

"WHAT!?!"  Nora jumped out of her chair, clutching her hands as if she were imagining herself strangling the tall, sculpted neck of Brooke the beauty queen.  "I might look like a bag lady, and I may never date the quarterback of the football team … but there is _no way_ I'm going to let some grapefruit-diet clothes horse like Brooke Krust get away with telling the school that she's smarter than me.  That bubble-brain couldn't program a VCR, let alone a robot!  _Arrrghhhh!_"

She stomped towards the door of her bedroom.  "But what about the mall?" asked Jenny.

"That'll have to wait until the weekend," Nora replied, with sudden determination in her voice.  She grabbed a few notebook papers and a calculator, disappeared into the hall, and ran down the stairs.

Jenny felt a tiny twinge of guilt for lying to her mother, but it was all for a good cause.  Where she hadn't succeeded in appealing to Nora's sense of reason, she had gotten through to her ego.  But all she'd accomplished was to keep Nora from dropping out of Friday's competition.  She was still no closer to getting Nora and Sidney together.  And there was still no guarantee that Nora would actually win.  Now that she was safely alone, Jenny pulled the magazine out of the storage compartment in her belly.  She flipped to page fifty-four.  It was _still_ a bright color photo of the Mogg Robotics 'Jenny' domestic robot.  And she was _still_ holding that stupid vacuum cleaner.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Seven

* * *


	7. We Are Family

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Seven – We Are Family

* * *

Nora wiped the perspiration from her face, and dropped her darkened goggles over her tired eyes.  They had worked all night Wednesday, and now Thursday night was almost gone too.  She was working at a fever pace to finish in time for the Robot Roundup the following night.  A pencil-thin jet of blue flame shot from a small welding torch in her right hand, as she installed a reinforcing metal strut onto the chassis of her robot.  She needed to hold it very, very precisely, or else the cover would never close when she was done.  It took all the strength in her thin arms to wedge the strut into its proper position.  Finally, she was ready to weld it into place.

And that's when the basement of her house start to shake and rattle – _another one of those stupid earthquakes!_  Nora had to quickly grab her robot, to keep it from falling off of her workbench; Sherman barely saved his laptop computer from getting crushed by a falling toolbox.  Fortunately, Nora was so focused on her robot that she didn't notice Jenny zip back and forth at superhuman speed to prevent half a dozen other items from crashing to the concrete floor.

"Blast it!" she shouted, throwing the goggles from her face.  "Stupid town picked a fine week to drop into the center of the earth.  I came _this_ close to slicing off the manipulator arms!  _Arghhh_, I need to take a break.  Guys, I'm going to run upstairs.  Can I get something for either of you?"

"Nothing for me, thanks," said Jenny, as she returned a dozen heavy books to a set of shelves.

Sherman heaved a sigh of relief as he checked the software on his laptop – everything seemed to be okay.  "I'd love a can of Coke, if you have any.  Any chance you can warm it up for me?"

Nora scrunched her face into a disgusted expression, then ran up the steps to leave Sherman and Jenny alone.  Sherman plopped himself down into an old, ripped up basement sofa, and massaged his temples with his fingertips.  "Wow, that was awfully close.  If anything had happened to my laptop, it would have been game over."

Jenny walked over to the little robot sitting on the dusty, wooden workbench.  It was about the size of a suitcase, made of steel and aluminum, simple and boxy in its construction.  Four large wheels were positioned at the corners of the frame, and most of the inside was filled with heavy-duty rechargeable batteries.  With its cover flipped open, she could see hundreds of feet of multi-colored wires running throughout the chassis, connecting circuit boards to electric sensors and servos.  Two crude cameras served as the robot's eyes, each perched at the end of a fixed metal stalk.  And two flexible arms, with crude manipulating claws, extended from the sides of the rectangular steel body.

She pulled off a glove and pushed back the sleeve of her sweater, allowing herself to deploy a welding torch from her wrist.  With her enhanced strength, she had no problem positioning the metal strut, and in a few seconds, the welding job was complete.  Jenny retracted her torch into her robot arm, and an affectionate look came over her face.

"Aww, would you just look at her?  Poor little thing doesn't even have a fusion reactor, or a rocket motor.  And look at its little brain!  It's a Pentium chip.  That's so cute!"  Jenny smiled, patted the little robot, and started talking in a baby voice.  "Ohhh, she's so cute, yes she is!  Yes she is!  Can you move your arms for your big sister?  Hmmm?  Can you wave to Jenny?"

"It doesn't have voice recognition," groaned Sherman, as his fingers danced madly on his keyboard.  "Besides, the operating software isn't loaded yet!  It's just a hunk of metal, gears, and wires."

Jenny folded her arms with a huff.  "Oh, _yeah_?!?  Well, I think she's adorable.  And she'll be even more adorable when you're done with your software.  How soon?"

"I'm compiling right now.  But I want to take a look at my custom news page first.  I've got a funny feeling about something."  Sherman brought up a web browser on his laptop.  "It's all these annoying little earthquakes that have been going on all week long.  I can't remember this many little quakes ever happening so close together.  Here, take a look at the headlines on my home page."

Jenny looked at the screen of Sherman's laptop, which he had customized to show news articles about Centerville.  The lead story was about a major rezoning of the city.  Centerville was going to combine with two smaller towns on either side of it into one single, larger city.  The mayors of the three towns were having meetings this week.  The second story, though, confirmed Sherman's hypothesis: "Town officials stumped by increase in seismic activity."

Sherman clicked on a link, which displayed a map of the Centerville area, covered with a series of red dots.  "All the epicenters of the earthquakes have been focused around Centerville itself.  That's really strange, because Centerville isn't located on a fault line."

"Uh, okay then … is there something else that could cause earthquakes?"

Sherman looked at Jenny with worried eyes.  "Yeah, there is.  Earthquakes are usually caused by pieces of the Earth's crust moving against each other.  But in theory, they can also be caused by strong gravitation disruption.  But in order to do that, you'd need a something like … a black hole."

Jenny's eyes sprang wide open, as the realization of what Sherman was saying hit home.  Sherman punched a few more keys on his laptop.  All of the dots on the map were focused around a single spot, located out in the undeveloped region of the suburbs.

"That's where I showed up back on Monday morning," she gasped.  "That's where the time machine is."

"That's what I was afraid of," gulped Sherman.  "I think the time machine is causing the earthquakes!"

That's just what they needed – a whole new source of problems.  But they had to stop talking right then, as they heard Nora's feet cascading down the basement steps.  Nora still didn't know anything at all about time machines or robot girls from the future, and it was best to keep it that way.

She finished off a tall glass of lemonade, then tossed a warm can of Coke through the air to Sherman, catching him off guard.  "Warm Coke.  You are so weird, Sherman.  But I don't care, as long as you get that software finished.  How's it coming?"

"Ready for download," he grinned.  "All we have to do is hook up the Ethernet cable."

Once the software was installed, Nora lowered the cover, carefully guiding the sheet metal into position so that no wiring would get caught on any sharp corners.  She fastened it into place with a cordless screwdriver.  Then with a look of pride, Nora wiped the moist brown hair from her forehead, and started cleaning the smudge marks from her robot's stainless steel exterior.  "All finished!  I never thought we'd get done in time.  My very first autonomous robot prototype."  She planted her hands on her hips, striking a triumphant pose.  "Ladies and gentlemen, it is my great honor to introduce to you, the winner of tomorrow night's Centerville Robot Roundup … Experimental Robot Zero."

With a soft whine of motors and the hum of electricity, the little bot powered up, and its cameras swiveled from side to side.  Then its arms slowly reached out, grasping and ungrasping, running a test program of all its moving joints.   Jenny was completely captivated by the little robot.  "Oh, she's such a sweetie!  Look, she's trying to hold my hand.  What else can she do?"

"Well, tomorrow night that robot's going to be kicking butt," grinned Sherman.  "Haven't you ever seen those robot battle shows on TV before?  Where the robots fight each other in a giant metal arena with flaming pits and jets of flame and crushing hammers?  It is _so awesome_!  I was watching _Robot Wars_ on TV last week, and this one robot had a sawblade, and it was ripping apart this giant wedge robot – RRROWR!  Ripping huge gouges into it side!  But then the wedge robot flipped the sawblade robot into the air, and it crashed into the flame pit!  BLAM!  Into a million pieces!  It was _fantastic_!"

A wave of revulsion came over Jenny, and she wrapped her arms around Nora's robot defensively.  "That's … that's _horrible_!  That's _barbaric_!  You make robots slaughter each other just for cheap entertainment?  You … you can't do that to her!"

"That's not what will be going on tomorrow night, Jenny," said Nora, shaking her head at Sherman.  "For one thing, the robots on those cable TV shows are all remote controlled.  All of the robots in the Roundup have to use their own brains and programming.  And while the rules are pretty open, you don't win by blasting all the other robots to pieces."

Nora rummaged around in a cardboard box, and pulled out a spongy yellow ball about the size of a grapefruit.  She held it out in front of her robot, and moved it from side to side … and the robot's camera eyes followed it.  Then one of the arms reached out and gently closed its claws around the sponge ball.

Jenny clasped her hands to her cheek.  "She wants to play catch!  Awwww …."

"The robots have to collect as many sponge balls as they can," explained Nora.  "The one who collects the most in the time limit wins the prize."

"You're really going to call it Experimental Robot Zero?"  Sherman's face twisted into a sneer.  "You might be a genius, Nora, but you can't name anything worth beans.  That's a pretty lame name for a robot.  A robot needs to have an intimidating name, like … the Eviscerator!  Or the Deathbringer!  Or …"

"You're not going to give her a horrible name like that, are you?" pleaded Jenny.

"Stop calling it a 'her'," grumbled Sherman.  "Seriously, this is why girls shouldn't build robots."

"Wait a minute – why not?" grinned Nora.  "Boys call machines 'her' all the time.  They call cars and boats and planes 'her'.  And Sherman, I _know_ you call your laptop 'her'."

"That's not true," he pouted.  "I call it my _precious_."

"The more I think about it, the more I like it," said Nora.  "I've put so much time and work into this little robot … it doesn't seem like just a machine any more.  It almost feels like … I'm its _mommy_."  She chuckled at the silliness of that thought, not noticing the warm smile on Jenny's face.  "You know, Jenny, you've really been so amazing to me this week.  I don't have a lot of girlfriends at school … I really appreciate a cool girl like you taking time to help me out.  I'm going to name the robot after you."

"Wow …" she gasped.  "I don't know what to say!"

"You're naming it Experimental _Jenny_ Zero?" asked Sherman.  "_Still_ lame.  And besides, it's too long."

Nora was growing frustrated with Sherman, but he did have a point.  She intended to paint the robot's name on its shiny cover for the competition, but a long name like Experimental Jenny Zero probably wouldn't fit very well.  A shorter name would be catchier, and stand out better …

"All right, I'll just abbreviate it," said Nora.  She dipped a paintbrush into a can of blue paint, and made a few bold, stylish strokes on top of the little robot, right behind its eye-stalks.

"XJ-Zero," read Sherman.  "Hey … that's actually kind of catchy."

Jenny reached down and gently patted her littlest sister.  "Yes, it sure is."

* * *

The orange sun was setting through a layer of broken clouds, giving the impression that Mother Nature herself was shining a spotlight on Centerville High School this night.  Friday had flown by in a blur, and now, after days and weeks of anticipation, the 2004 Centerville Robot Roundup was only half an hour from getting underway. The school parking lot was packed to overflowing, as students and parents from the tri-county area began to converge on the gymnasium.  Dozens of teenagers fumbled with bulky metal contraptions of every imaginable shape and design.  While some of the students wheeled their robotic creations into the school gym for registration and setup, and few lingered outside for some last-minute modifications.  There were a couple of white television vans parked next to the curb, and reporters interviewed randomly selected roboteers for their local news stories later that evening.  The Robot Roundup made for a good "puff piece" – it certainly wasn't a major news event.  After all, it's not like one silly student robot competition could influence the course of history.

_Sh-yeah, tell me about it_, Jenny grumbled to herself.  Even though Nora's robot, XJ-Zero, weighed close to eighty pounds, she had no trouble lifting it out of the back of the station wagon while Nora received a good-luck hug from her parents.  She and Sherman had ridden to the high school with Nora's parents, under the auspices of providing moral support.  Jenny, of course, had a more vested interest in the outcome of the evening – it was going to decide whether or not she would even _exist_ in seventy years.

While Jenny gave a final once-over to XJ-Zero, Sherman tapped her on the shoulder.  Once he had her attention, he simply gestured to his right.  Jenny's shoulders sank with a sigh.  It was Sidney Wakeman, struggling to load his robotic contest entry onto a large dolly, for transport into the gym.  And standing behind him was Brooke Krust, dressed in a fashionable baby-T and hip-huggers that left little to the imagination.  She was snickering with a couple of her popular friends, as they watched Sidney clumsily maneuver the dolly.  He exhibited all the poise and grace of a young Jerry Lewis.

"I wonder what Mom _sees_ in him," moaned Jenny.  She gave Sherman a pained expression.  "We've been so busy for the past two days that I haven't thought up a way to get Nora and Sidney together.  Even if Mom wins tonight, I don't think I can fix the future if she doesn't get together with Sidney."

They snapped their attentions back to Nora as she walked over to XJ-Zero.  For the time being, it would be better to help her keep her mind on her robot; she might get too distracted if she started thinking about Sidney right now.  Nora actually seemed upbeat as she took a reading of the robot's diagnostics, making brief notes on a hand-held clipboard.

"The big night is finally here," she smiled.  "Jenny, Sherman … I just wanted to say that I really appreciate all the help you've given me this week.  Wow, would you take a look at everybody who's here tonight?  I didn't expect that the TV guys would bother showing up.  And there's a big black limousine in front of the school.  I think the mayor is in it."

"I guess this robot contest is a bigger deal than I realized," said Jenny.  She remembered that her Mom had told her that the Robot Roundup was, in part, a promotional gimmick to draw attention back to the town of Centerville after the Great Dot-Com crash.  "There's some kind of a cash prize for first place, right?"

"Twenty-five hundred dollars," smiled Nora.

"Wow!" said Jenny.  "That'll go a long way to helping out with college."

"Heh-heh.  That's what my mom thinks."  She smirked defiantly.  "If I win, I'm using it to get laser eye surgery.  No more coke-bottle glasses for me!"

"What?!?" gasped Jenny.

"Or maybe plastic surgery," said Nora, rubbing the tip of her nose.  "Do you have any idea how much it sucks going through high school with a banana stuck in the middle of your face?"

"Nora, don't you think that it would be a better idea to …"  Jenny didn't finish her sentence.

She saw a familiar face in the crowd, one that got the coolant boiling in her radiators.  Quickly excusing herself, she bolted away from Nora, Sherman, and XJ-Zero, weaving her way through a crowd of students and parents.  She was pursuing a short bearded man in white lab coat.  She didn't want to lose track of him, and she knew that he had to be here to cause trouble.  He was just about to enter the side door of the gym when Jenny caught up to him, laying a gloved hand on the old man's shoulder with an angry grip.

"Mogg," she growled.  "You no-good, dirty rotten weasel …"

The old man wheeled around with a start, then sneered with contempt when he realized who it was.  "Robot!  Well, I must say that I'm a little surprised to see you here tonight.  Shouldn't you be down at the shopping mall, wandering about in that silly costume of your, masquerading as a teenager?  Now as for me, I'm here to enjoy myself.  This all brings back a lot of fond memories for me, seeing all my old classmates when they still had acne, and wore their retainers …"

She pulled them both off to the side, so they could speak in relative privacy.  "Knock it off.  Look, I know you didn't steal my mom's time machine to come here for sightseeing.  I didn't have any proof earlier in the week, but I do now.  You've done something to change the future."

The old doctor raised his hand and started to protest, then stopped himself.  He responded to Jenny's hostile gaze with an arrogant smile.  "And what if I have?  All I've done is give history a gentle little nudge in the right direction.  It's you that's been foolish enough to jeopardize her entire future by clumsily interfering in the timeline.  All I did was drop a gentle hint, a tiny piece of information here and there.  A quick little peek at the last page in the book, you might say."

"What are you babbling about?" she asked …

"Hey, old timer, are gonna help me out here or what?"  They looked to see young Phinneas Mogg – or "Vinny" as he preferred to be called – wheeling his robot entry into the gym on a dolly.  And the robot was amazing.  Where most of the other entries looked like something that had been built in a basement, Vinny's robot, the "Mogg Masher", looked like a creation spawned from a military research laboratory.  The Mogg Masher had tank treads, four sets of arms, and a weapon barrel mounted on a rotating turret.  It actually did look a bit like a miniature army tank.  Upon closer inspection, Jenny could see intricate circuit paths and sensors attached to the Masher, which would give it huge advantage over any of the other entries.  Complex sensors that _did not exist_ in the year 2004.

She turned to Mogg with an even more furious scowl on her face.  "You cheater!  You're giving yourself technology from the future to use on your robot!  That's not fair!"

"Why don't you file a complaint with rules committee then, robot girl?" chuckled Phinneas.

"But where did you get all of that advanced technology …"  Jenny gasped as the realization dawned on her.  "The time machine!  You went out and stripped parts from the time machine, to use in a high school robotics project!  Are you completely whacked out?!?  Oh, wow … is that why the time machine is creating all these earthquakes?"

"Very minor earthquakes," answered Mogg with a grin.  "Hardly even worth mentioning."

"But they're getting stronger!  You're going to put the entire town in danger if we don't get out to the time machine and repair the damage!"

"There'll be plenty of time to repair the Continuum Vortex Generator after the robot competition is over in a few hours."  Mogg smugly slid his hands into his pockets.  "By which time my younger self will have won first place, will be receiving recognition from local news and businesspeople, and will be well on his way to a very _prosperous_ future.  I'm afraid that poor Nora's robot doesn't stand a chance against my – I mean, against Vinnie's robotic tank.  Just make sure you meet me after everything is over tonight.  Otherwise, you'll be stranded when I time-jump home."  And with that, he left Jenny writhing in anger, and escorted his younger self into the gym.

Sherman ran up to Jenny just in time to see the old man walk away.  "Is that who I think it was?"

"That's Phinneas Mogg – both of them," she grumbled.  "Did you see that robotic brute they were entering into the contest?  Vinny is using future technology on it.  He's cheating, and there's nothing I can do about it!  What am I supposed to do?  Tell the judges that I'm a robot girl from the future?  That big hulking tank is going to turn poor little XJ-Zero into spare parts!  It just makes me so …"

Suddenly Jenny stumbled a bit, as a wave of disorientation came over her.  A few people on the wide sidewalk outside the gym grew concerned, but Sherman grabbed her arm to help steady her.  After a few seconds, she regained her equilibrium.  "What the heck was that!?!" Sherman asked, bewildered.

"That was really freaky," she said, still blinking the fuzziness from her head.  "I kind of felt all _warbly_ through my whole body.  I think I feel okay … although … wait, something's different …"

Jenny turned around to face away from the crowd, and rolled up her sweater to expose her metallic abdomen.  She swung open the door in her belly, and deployed a small spotlight from her fingertip to illuminate the inside.  She didn't need to deploy a magnifying glass, though, to read the label pasted to the inside of the door …

"Mogg Robotics Domestic Robot – Model 'Jenny' Version 5.6.23.7 Serial Number 353594-TX-1933.  For warranty information call 1-800-MOGGBOT.  Made in Taiwan."

"Unbelievable," Sherman mumbled involuntarily.  "It looks like Nora's not going to win tonight, even after all our hard work.  Things in the future are continuing to change.  Now it's catching up with you.  You're gradually changing into that housecleaning robot we saw in the advertisement.  Soon those changes will become permanent!"

"Then we have to take more drastic action," she said, clenching her fists.  "There is no way I am going to let that old goofball make himself the richest man in the world and ruin my mom's life.  And there's no way I'm going to spend the rest of my life cleaning carpets."

"But what can we do?" asked Sherman, shrugging his shoulders.  "You've seen Mogg's robot.  It's unstoppable."

"True – none of the other kids' normal robots can stop it.  That's why we need to enter a robot in the contest that can stop the Mogg Masher.  Sherman, you're going to enter your own robot.  One that can stop that cheater from winning."

That spun Sherman for a loop.  He folded his arms and gave her a sarcastic look.  "Jenny, the competition is about to start.  Most of the teams have already registered.  And as you may have noticed, I did _not_ happen to bring a homemade robot with me tonight!  Where in the world am I supposed to come up with something in the next ten minutes that I can use as an entry for the Robot Roundup?"

Jenny gave him a confident smile.  "You're looking at her."

* * *

Continued in Chapter Eight

* * *


	8. Robot Roundup

A/N – BoneSatellite pointed out that I slipped up in the last chapter with a questionable word.  I'm very sorry, and hope nobody took offense.  I edited the text, and reposted it.

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Eight – Robot Roundup

* * *

The five hundred people in the bleachers politely clapped, as the mayor of Centerville finished his speech to open up the First Annual Robot Roundup.  The gymnasium had been transformed into a kind of geek carnival, with innovative and fantastic robot designs sitting side by side with amateurish and bizarre contraptions.  Some students stood calmly in front of the tournament board, evaluating their seeding and deciding whether or not they'd gotten a good draw.  Some students were frantically putting in last-minute work on their robots, trying to repair the last-minute glitches that always seemed to come up at times like these.  Others simply rocked back and forth in place, trying to settle gut-wrenching nerves.

Brooke Krust may have been the only one who was doing her nails.  She wasn't paying attention to the mechanical melee taking place in the competition arena.  Four awkward metallic contrivances were whirring about in apparent chaos, chasing after dozens of small yellow sponge balls.  They were inside an "arena" made from a thirty-by-thirty foot pen, fenced off with walls three feet high.  Each robot had its own "goal", a two-foot wide circular basket about two feet deep.  The rules were pretty simple: the robot that had the most sponge balls in its basket at the end of five minutes won the match.

Sidney Wakeman's robot was a crude and simple design.  It looked like a small octagon on ball bearings, with a scoop blade on its front, like a miniature bulldozer.  All it did was maneuver around the arena, scooping up as many sponge balls as fast as it could.  But what it lacked in engineering, it made up for in smarts; Sidney was an expert computer programmer, and his robot sported a fairly impressive artificial intelligence.  It quickly scanned the arena and sped to the area with the densest concentration of sponge balls, getting there while its opponents stumbled around in random directions.

Sidney's ScoopBot whirred back to its goal, and raised its scoop to dump the balls in his basket.  Only a little over half of the balls actually went in; the rest missed the basket and rolled away.  But Sidney's strategy was to use overwhelming numbers.  His robot scooped up so many sponge balls that the other competitors hardly had any left for themselves.  When the five minutes were up, Sidney's robot had won, and advanced to the second round.

"Not too shabby," said Sherman, as he looked on from the far corner of the arena.  "You'd swear that Sidney's robot can see as well as a human.  That guy can sure write a mean computer program."

"Yes, and his _partner_ there can't figure out how the recharger cord plugs into the wall," hissed Nora, not trying to hide her disgust.  Her first match was coming up next, and the judges directed her to move her robotic entry to the assigned starting position.  "Well, I've done as much as I can do for the little rascal.  It's all up to her now.  Good luck, XJ-Zero!"

Each robot started off the match sitting directly in front of its goal.  A buzzer sounded, and yellow sponge balls were launched into the arena from two tennis ball machines.  As the balls bounced and rolled around, the student robots lurched into action.  XJ-Zero's twin cameras twisted back and forth, giving her excellent vision; its four wheels turned independently for high mobility.  She whizzed back and forth between the playing surface and her goal, plucking sponge balls with her manipulator arms, filling her basket with one or two balls at a time.  Another robot with a pair of lobster claws pushed a bunch of sponge balls at once, like Sidney's robot; but it wasn't very good at it.  A third robot, which had a catapult device, hadn't collected a single ball yet.  The crowd assumed that it must have suffered a malfunction.

Then, to everyone's surprise, the catapult triggered, launching a net towards XJ-Zero.  The net snagged on the aft corner of her chassis, and with a powerful motor, the catapult robot reeled it in.  Nora looked on in anguish as XJ-Zero's wheels spun in vain.  Finally, with one last tug, the attacker robot knocked XJ-Zero on her side, motionless and helpless.  It was all within the rules; you didn't win by attacking your opponents, but it certainly was a legitimate strategy.  The catapult robot launched its net again, snagging half a dozen sponge balls, and dragged them in the direction of its basket.

But XJ-Zero had some clever programming of her own, thanks to Nora and Sherman.  The square little robot planted her arms firmly against the floor, and pushed itself upright.  Then it went back to the job of collecting sponge balls.  Dodging between its three opponents like a water bug, it quickly build up an insurmountable score.  When the ending buzzer sounded, XJ-Zero had recorded the victory.

Nora heaved a sigh of relief, and guided her robot out of the arena as the next match quickly started up.  She flipped open the cover to do a systems check.  "Looks like everything's okay, Sherman.  I'm glad I thought to put that self-correcting subroutine in her software.  It worked like a charm!  That's one down and two to go."  By which she meant that two more victories meant winning the championship.

"That's pretty impressive, Nora," grinned Sherman.  "I think you've got a pretty good shot at the title!"

"Well, we'll see.  Say … have you seen Jenny anywhere?  I haven't seen her since I signed in."

Sherman tugged nervously at the collar of his T-shirt.  "Um … she said that she had to go take care of some business, and she'd show up … later.  Yeah, I'm pretty sure we'll see her later."  _And how_, he gulped.

"Well, I hope everything's okay … _Sweet Einstein's Mustache_!  What is that thing?!?"

Heads turned as Vinnie Mogg's robot made its way towards the arena, preparing for the next match.  It was a two-foot tall tank, painted black with red trim.  It had a rotating turret on top with a two-foot long gun barrel.  Its powerful electrical motor filled the air with an oscillating growl.  Strange banks of lighted panels lined the bottom of the turret.  The Mogg Masher had better vision, and was _much_ smarter, than it had been only a week ago – thanks to a little help from the future version of Phinneas Mogg.

The buzzer sounded, and three robots lunged forward to chase after the yellow balls.  The Mogg Masher sat still for a few seconds, however, to the disappointment of the crowd.  It was definitely one of the more interesting-looking entries in the Roundup so far.  But it wasn't doing anything at the moment …

That changed in the blink of an eye.  The turret spun towards a cube-shaped robot, and shot a pair of wire leads from its gun barrel.  The wires struck the target's metal skin, and the Mogg Masher discharged an electric shock into it, like a taser gun.  The cube shuddered, began to smoke, and then wheezed to stop.  The wires retracted back into the barrel.  Next, the Masher turned towards a pyramid-shaped machine that was busily scooping up sponge balls.  It circled around to come up next to the pyramid, and deployed a two-foot metal baton from the end of its barrel.  With a high-pitched whine, the turret began to rotate, pummeling the pyramid robot with its metal baton.  After ten seconds, the top of the pyramid ripped completely off.  Two robots had been deactivated, only forty seconds into the match.

The only remaining opponent was a squat, round robot that pushed sponge balls towards its goal like a little snowplow.  The Mogg Masher came at it from behind, and rolled right over it like a steamroller.  Then it backed up and did it again, and again, crushing the snowplow into a heap of debris.  With a casual pace, the Masher rolled over a single sponge ball, scooping it up with an apparatus on its underside.  It rolled up to its goal, and spat the ball into its basket.  With all the other robots reduced to smoldering heaps, that single ball was good enough to win.  It was almost as if the Mogg Masher was being _arrogant_.

Young Vinnie glanced to old Dr. Mogg in the bleachers and gave him a thumbs-up.  Then he looked over at Nora, with a superior look on his face.  "Well, that was _almost_ interesting," he grinned.  "Looking forward to playing the Masher against your little _toy_, Nora."

Nora folded her arms with a huff, and shot back a smile – then turned around to Sherman, showing the true concern on her face.  "How in blazes did a slacker like Vinnie build a robot like that!?!  That little tank is ruthless and cunning – and I swear it's almost behaving as if it were intelligent!  Criminy, I have to admit, I'm impressed."

_Yeah, amazing what a little illegal future technology can do_, Sherman grumbled to himself.  "Yup, Vinnie's got a pretty vicious little beast there.  But I think I've got something that can give him a run for his money.  Excuse me, Nora … I've got to go get my entry ready."

Nora blinked in surprise.  "_Your_ entry?  You're entered in the Roundup?  But you've been working with _me_ for the past three days!  I didn't even know you'd been _working_ on a robot!"

"Oh, it's just a little something I've been tinkering with on the side," he grinned.  Then Sherman excused himself again, and once Nora's head was turned, he bolted for the double doors to the hallway, heading for the student washrooms.

Four more preliminary-round contests went on, as clever little homemade robots wobbled around the arena scooping up yellow sponge balls.  The students and spectators were amazed with the variety of robots on display, and even the engineers visiting from a pair of Silicon Valley startup companies had to admit they were impressed.  But the general agreement among everyone in the gym was that the best robot so far had been Vinnie's.  Dr. Mogg listened to the buzz in the stands, noting with glee that the visiting businessmen and college professors were all talking about the Mogg Masher.  Those people would be the contacts that young Vinnie would use to start his amazing career … and take his rightful place as the greatest scientist of the 21st century.

Then a few gasps rippled across the floor, as the double doors swung open.  Sherman Lee strolled in, with a pimpled smirk on his face – accompanied by one of the strangest robots that anybody had ever seen.

Jenny had collapsed her robot body into a compact form, close to the floor.  She had slid her hips and torso together, and folded her blue leg housings flush on either side of her body.  Her arms pivoted to telescope up and out in front of her, and she had folded her pigtails back against the side of her head, which was disguised beneath a set of shielded plates.  Lying on her belly, in her transformed state, she had the appearance of a three-foot-long blue ladybug.  A very _confident_ blue ladybug.

"Now remember, Jenny," Sherman whispered to her, "in order to win, you've got to get the most yellow sponge balls in your goal basket.  Other than that, just about anything goes."

"Oh, please … this is going to be a piece of cake," she whispered back, as they moved towards the arena.  "I fight aliens and destroy doomsday meteors for a living!"

"Well, just don't use a death ray or a tractor beam, okay?  It might look a bit suspicious."

Nora walked over to Sherman and Jenny, immensely curious, and knelt down to inspect Sherman's "homemade robot".  Jenny rotated a shutter down over her eyes, nervously hoping that her mother wouldn't see through her disguise.  She didn't, but she was very impressed by her advanced design.  "Sherman, you've been holding out on me!  The welding and gear-work on this robot is some of the most advanced stuff I've ever seen!  What do you call it?"

What had he said last night?  _A robot needs an intimidating name_.  "I call it … the Sherminator."

_Oh, brother_, Jenny groaned to herself, as she wheeled into the arena to face off against her three opponents.  Sherman knelt down, and pretended to perform pre-match work on his robot.  Neither he nor Jenny expected much of a challenge from the competition.  Three high school projects against a world-saving super-powered robot girl from seventy years in the future.  Not very sportsmanlike, to be sure.  But there was too much at stake to worry about that.

The buzzer sounded, and the arena filled with bouncing yellow sponge balls.  Jenny quickly rolled out into the middle of the square, grabbed a pair of balls, and lobbed them back towards her basket.  _Plunk.  Plunk._  While the other robots stumbled about, with primitive electronics trying to identify just what was a ball and what wasn't, Jenny kept nabbing sponge balls and tossing them into her goal basket.  _Just like gym class_, she grinned to herself.  She made one-handed shots.  She made underhanded shots.  She wheeled over to the far corner of the arena, and launched a thirty-foot shot that plopped down right in the middle of her goal with a _shoomp_.  _Nothin' but net_.

By now a couple of the other robots had managed to grab onto their first sponge balls; Jenny rolled past them and plucked the yellow balls right out of their claws.  _And it's Jenny, at half court, with the double steal!_  Another pair of shots arced towards her goal, landing dead center.  The third robot lowered a wide pusher bar, and began to herd a group of sponge balls towards its own goal.  Jenny snuck up behind it and lifted the bar, letting the balls roll free.  She grabbed one and bounced it with one hand, dribbling it in circles around the confused pusher robot.  Finally she came to a stop, and shot the sponge ball off the side of the dizzy robot's head.  It ricocheted fifteen feet through the air and came down into her goal, which was now overflowing with sponge balls.

The match was never in doubt.  The clock counted down the five minutes, and with the ending buzzer, Jenny advanced to the second round.  She snuck a smile at Sherman, as he re-entered the arena with the other three students to tend to their robots.

Sherman gave her a sarcastic look.  "What's the matter?  Didn't feel like doing a slam dunk?"

"I was just trying to have a little fun," she whispered back.  "Everything's totally under control."  She glanced over towards the elder Dr. Phinneas Mogg, sitting in the bleachers.  He was ripping a program in half with shaking hands, his face beet-red with fury.  _Turnabout is fair play_, she smiled to herself.

* * *

The remaining preliminary matches played out, reducing a field of sixty-four to sixteen.  This eliminated the casual hobbyists, leaving only the most serious competitors to face off against each other in the second round.  These games were more exciting, with interesting strategies, complex behaviors, offense and defense, and closer scores.  But four of the entries stood out from all the rest, and it was those four who advanced to the final match: Sidney Wakeman's ScoopBot, Vinnie Mogg's Mogg Masher, Nora Smegglewyck's XJ-Zero, and Sherman Lee's "Sherminator".  The names were posted to the large tournament board, and the judge gave notice that the championship match would begin in five minutes.

Sidney came over to shake hands with Nora and Sherman, and wish everyone good luck; Brooke Krust was lounging over by the vending machines, sipping a bottled water and giggling into a cell phone.  Nora returned the sentiment, but nothing more … to her frustration, she still found herself tongue-tied around Sidney.  Young Vinnie stood off to one side, sneering confidently.  He nodded to his older self in the bleachers.  One more win, and both of them would enjoy a bright and shiny future.  Not to mention a wealthy one.

Sherman got down on his hands and knees, pretending to adjust something on Jenny's body with a screwdriver.  "Well, it looks like this is the moment of truth," he sighed nervously.  "This is the final match.  Now, according to what you told me, Nora _has_ to win this in order to set the future back to the way it's supposed to be.  That means you need to make sure Vinnie doesn't win – but it also means _you_ can't win, either.  That would be just as bad."

"I gotcha," she whispered back.  "I've got an idea.  Vinnie's tank has won all of its matches by attacking the other robots first.  So when the buzzer sounds, I'll draw its attention and we'll 'fight' each other to a standoff while XJ-Zero zips around and collects all of the yellow sponge balls.  Then I'll just put a hurtin' on his robot and crush it like a tin can … the little _creep_ …"

"Hey, remember," he said, "homemade robots aren't _supposed_ to have particle cannons.  Be sneaky and be careful.  And good luck."

The crowd rose to its feet as the four competitors entered the arena for the championship match.  Jenny rolled past the menacing black-and-red robot tank, taking note of the future electronics that Mogg had grafted onto it.  That would definitely make it more of a challenge – _but come on, _she grinned to herself_.  I shoot Cluster starships out of orbit.  I think I can handle one little toy tank_.  Sidney's ScoopBot stood ready at the far corner of the square pen.  It was fast and intelligent, and she needed to make sure that it didn't scoop up all the balls first.  Finally she drove past XJ-Zero, who was looking spry and limber in her fresh blue paint job.  Not quite a pale-teal blue, but the family resemblance was there.  "Good luck, sis," Jenny smiled towards her camera-eyes.  "I know you can do it!"  _For mom's sake – and for my sake too._

The judge began a countdown to the starting buzzer, trying to build a little drama for the audience.  Camera bulbs flashed as the horn sounded, yellow sponge balls were launched, and a large digital clock began to count down from five minutes.  The four finalists rushed out from their starting positions …

And Jenny screeched to a halt.  And her motors began to spasm.

A warbling disorientation flowed through Jenny's metal body, catching her completely by surprise.  It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at all, and it was like nothing she'd ever experienced before in her life.  It felt like her metal body was being squashed and stretched from the inside out.  The sensation combined with the noise of the crowd and the chaos of the arena to overwhelm her senses for a few moments.  She even felt a change in the programming inside of her electronic brain.  Jenny blinked her eyes, struggling to regain her focus.  _What in the world was that!?!  Was that some kind of attack from Mogg's little tank?_

Gradually, she realized that she was the only robot that was still stationary.  Sidney's ScoopBot once again began its strategy of hoarding up all the sponge balls before any of the other competitors could grab them.  The little octagon scanned the arena and sped towards a grouping of yellow balls, collecting them in its curved scoop as it zipped along.  But Mogg's robot was hot on its tail.  Whether by design or simply by luck, the Mogg Masher had picked the ScoopBot as its first target.  The ScoopBot didn't have much in the way of attack capability, but it was fast and intelligent.  It zigzagged away from the Masher in a series of evasive maneuvers, trying to get back towards its goal basket.

But as the ScoopBot focused its camera on the Masher, it wasn't watching where it was going.  XJ-Zero was rolling back towards its goal at top speed, holding onto a pair of sponge balls.  The two robots collided broadside, sending them rolling end over end.  Nora and Sidney, leaning over the wall of the arena, both gasped in horror at the fluke accident that threatened to ruin their chances.  Their robots lay motionless, giving the Mogg Masher all the time it needed to close in on the ScoopBot.  Sidney winced in sympathetic pain as the Masher ground its treads over the top of his robot, leaving a huge gouge in its chassis.  The little black tank deployed its metal baton from its gun barrel, and proceeded to smash the electronics package of the ScoopBot.  Only sixty seconds into the competition, Sidney Wakeman was out of the running.  It was down to three, now.

Jenny couldn't believe how so much had gone so wrong in such a short amount of time.  She ran a self diagnostic, and was stunned to find that many of her weapons systems were off line.  More confusing, her power levels were lower – a _lot_ lower.  She no longer had the strength of a million and seventy men.  At her current power levels, she'd be lucky to beat Sherman in an arm wrestling competition.  But there was no time to figure out what went wrong.  She grimaced at the sight of her poor little sister, XJ-Zero, slowly righting itself with its manipulator arms.  The Mogg Masher had turned its attention towards her.  Jenny could almost hear an animalistic growl coming from the electronics on the nasty little tank robot.  The Masher turned its gun barrel towards XJ-Zero …

And was knocked two feet sideways, as Jenny lowered her head and slammed herself into its side.  She was amazed at how durable the tank felt; it was almost like running into a brick wall.  It suffered no damage from her onslaught, and backed off into a defensive mode, evaluating its attacker.  Fortunately, XJ-Zero made good use of her escape opportunity, and scampered off to resume the collection of sponge balls.  She was actually the only robot that had scored any points at all so far; the ScoopBot had been crushed before putting a single ball in its basket, and Jenny and the Mogg Masher were circling each other in combat.

The crowd roared its approval at what was proving to be the most entertaining battle between two robots so far in the Roundup.  The Mogg Masher and Jenny circled each other like a pair of prize fighters, performing ramming attacks in an attempt to flip each other over.  Jenny grit her teeth and tried to refocus her attention on the black-and-red tank.  _At least I'm using up the clock, giving XJ-Zero a chance to win.  But I don't understand it – I should have knocked that stupid tank into the middle of next week!  Looks like it's time to take off the gloves._

She held out her arm in an attack position.  _I'll just deploy one of my Shiva Swords …_

Jenny gasped in horror.  A wave of laughter roared from the crowd.  Sherman clutched at his hair and chewed on his fingernails.

Instead of a steel sword blade, Jenny had deployed … a _mop_.

She desperately tried to access the rest of her arsenal.  _Deploy laser limb!  Click-snap-click_.  Pushbroom.  _Deploy saw blade!  Click-snap-click_.  Toilet brush.  _Deploy Thor's Hammer!  Click-snap-click_.  Feather duster.

Now she realized what the wave of disorientation had been – it was another set of changes rippling back through altered history.  Her transformation into a Mogg Robotics domestic housecleaning robot – a maid robot – was almost complete.  She had no weapons or superpowers any more.  And she had the most irritating but pervasive urge – to _clean_ something.

Mogg's tank seemed to be momentarily confused by the variety of janitorial tools springing out of Jenny's body; but it recovered, and swung itself into position for another attack.  The turret rotated to take aim.  While Jenny tried to make sense of what had happened, the gun barrel of the Mogg Masher drew a bead on her.  With a pneumatic _shoomp_ of compressed air, a pair of taser wires launched out of the Masher's gun tube, and struck Jenny in the middle of her forehead.  Before she could react, a scorching pulse of high voltage electricity rocked through her metallic body.  Her arms vibrated wildly, and her servo motors smoked and spurted with short circuits.  Finally, the agony ended – but only momentarily.  Jenny blinked through the haze of bright colors and foggy shapes just in time to see the Mogg Masher charging towards her like a rampaging rhino.  This time, the impact cartwheeled her spectacularly into the air, and she performed four barrel rolls before coming to rest, upside-down, in the corner of the arena.

She was astounded.  She was _embarrassed_.  But most of all, she was mortified.  In desperation, she activated her self-repair mechanisms; but the painful truth was that she was out of the match.  She managed to rotate her head just enough to see the insidious form of the Mogg Masher turn around, and lock onto Nora's robot, which had been busily filling its goal with a dozen yellow sponge balls.  But there was still two minutes left in the contest – plenty of time for a comeback.

The Mogg Masher reeled in its taser wires and rotated its turret.  With a high-pitched electrical whine, it launched itself on a collision course with XJ-Zero.

* * *

Continued in Chapter Nine

* * *


	9. Running Against the Clock

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Nine – Running Against the Clock

* * *

With less than two minutes remaining, the crowd cheered on the survivors in the championship match.  The Mogg Masher had already taken out Sidney's ScoopBot – and more surprisingly, it had taken out Jenny, who still lay upside-down in the corner of the arena.  The Masher now sought to complete its strategy of domination by disabling its only remaining competition – Nora's robot, XJ-Zero.  The tank's motors screamed as it plotted a course towards XJ-Zero's midsection.  It extended its metal baton, and started rotating its gun turret, looking to pummel the little blue-and-white robot into oblivion …

But XJ-Zero saw it coming, stopped abruptly, and reversed course.  The Masher sped past it like a charging bull.  XJ-Zero wheeled backwards and made a sharp turn, frustrating the Masher with its quickness and dexterity.  Nora's fingers clenched tightly onto the arena fencing, surprised by how fearful she was for her little creation.  Vinnie pounded his fists, urging his robot to complete its carnage.  The elder Phinneas Mogg, watching from the stands, ground his teeth together with intensity, as if his willpower could urge his younger self to victory.  And as Jenny struggled to get her internal systems back online, she could only watch helplessly as her little sister ran for her life.

XJ-Zero weaved back and forth in random circles to deny the Masher a clean shot.  But the Masher wasn't simply focused on hunting her down.  It deployed the ball-gathering device in its belly, and started scooping up yellow sponge balls as it chased XJ-Zero around the arena.  Jenny and Nora nervously realized that the Mogg Masher was storing them in an internal compartment – and it was storing a _lot_ of them.

The game clock showed only thirty seconds remaining.  XJ-Zero was still ahead, twelve to nothing, and it was still evading the Masher's attacks.  But suddenly, the black-and-red tank stopped its pursuit.  It spun in place, and rolled calmly back towards its goal.  A slot opened in the turret, and its stash of yellow sponge balls started to roll out.  Both Vinnies grinned as the Masher's basket quickly filled up.  Nora and Jenny gasped in despair, as a scorer announced that Mogg's basket now held an amazing twenty-two sponge balls.  Just like that, Vinnie had a ten point lead.  And there were only seventeen seconds left.

Jenny reached for a lone yellow ball next to her head.  Maybe if she could toss it in Nora's basket … but one ball wouldn't make any difference now.  _Waaah!  I'm gonna be a maid for the rest of my life!  I'm gonna vaccum carpets and clean sinks and …_

She was as surprised as anyone when XJ-Zero whizzed up behind the Mogg Masher, and gave it a nasty bump.  The tank was larger, heavier, and superior in combat … what in the world was XJ-Zero doing?  It was almost as if she was _picking a fight_.  The black tank turret spun around one-hundred-eighty degrees, and locked onto XJ-Zero once more.  There was only twelve seconds left in the match, but Vinnie had programmed the tank to be very aggressive – and it was eager to crush its sole remaining opponent.

XJ-Zero sped back into the middle of the arena.  The Mogg Masher squealed its treads, and went after her.  The crowd started chanting in unison, counting down the clock from ten seconds.  Vinnie and his older self beamed with the glow of impending victory.  The Masher whizzed past XJ-Zero, barely missing her.  Its sensors tracked her as she twisted and U-turned towards the side of the arena.  _Eight seconds left_.

Then XJ-Zero came to an abrupt halt, almost as if it had suffered some kind of malfunction.  The Masher rotated and began another high-speed charge, hungry for the kill.  Jenny closed her eyes – this was going to be painful to watch.  _Five seconds left_.

The black-and-red tank seemed to growl with sadistic delight as it bore down on the little square robot.  _Three seconds left_.

Suddenly XJ-Zero's wheels spun back up to full power, and it backed out of the way, allowing the Mogg Masher to rush past it at full speed – and collide right into its own goal basket.  _Two seconds left_.

The crowd watched in amazement as the black-and-red tank-bot ricocheted off the side of its metal basket with impressive force.  The basket seemed to rock in slow motion, to the left, then back to the right – then its momentum carried it over, and it tipped on its side, spilling all of its sponge balls back into the arena, just as the closing buzzer blared.  Final score:  XJ-Zero 12, Mogg Masher 0.

Enthusiastic applause roared through the gym, and Nora jumped into the air, squealing with joy.  One of her last-minute software additions had actually worked; XJ-Zero had _suckered_ the Mogg Masher into knocking over its own goal.  Vinnie was shaking, and looked like he was about to have a brain seizure.  Sherman sighed with relief.  As a small crowd of judges and officials crowded around Nora to give congratulations, Sherman sprinted into the arena to celebrate with Jenny.

Grunting from the effort, Sherman managed to flip Jenny onto her belly.  "Jenny, she did it!  Nora did it!  Everything's back the way it's supposed to be …"

But to his surprise, Jenny simply looked up at him with a vapid, Barbie-doll smile.  "Good evening, sir!  Your Jenny-robot is on-line!  Before I begin my cleaning duties, may I offer you a refreshing cup of coffee?"  A faucet deployed from her palm, making a gurgling, brewing sound.

Sherman was baffled.  "Oh, no – I don't understand it!  You're still a maid!  Why hasn't the future been repaired yet?  Did we forget something …"

Flashbulbs and television lights blared in Nora's eyes.  Her parents, teachers, and both Silicon Valley businessmen crowded around her to offer congratulations.  A visiting college professor suggested that if Nora were to pursue a degree in robotics, she would be assured of an excellent scholarship.  A local television reporter praised her as a role model for young girls interested in science.  The mayor, always eager for a good photo opportunity, stood next to her in front of the tournament board, which was emblazoned with the logo "Centerville – the Technology Town!"  He raised his arm and smiled into the cameras.  "Tonight we honor Centerville's most valuable asset, the minds of our young people!  And as our little town grows and prepares for the future, we can all be assured that it will be a _bright_ and _promising_ future indeed, with students like …"

His speech was cut off as the floor started to vibrate beneath his feet.  A low rumble resonated through the gym, and the crowd buzzed with nervousness as they realized that yet another earthquake was under way.  The bleachers shook back and forth, and the tournament board swayed from side to side.  A few people gasped as one of the gym's windows shattered, raining a shower of shards onto the hardwood floor.  This was the strongest quake _yet_.

Sherman turned his attention from Jenny – motion from the rafters had caught his eye.  He looked up to see that the large overhead lights were swinging like pendulums.  Then one of the heavy light fixtures jerked suddenly, and its cable snapped.  It hung on by a few steel threads for a second, then those gave way, and it plummeted towards the floor.

Directly towards Nora's head.

Sherman tried to leap to his feet, but he tripped over Jenny's metal body.

Nora glanced up just in time to see the light rushing towards her.  She didn't even have time to raise her arms to shield herself …

When she was catapulted sideways, out of harm's way.  The fixture crashed to the floor with a terrifying noise, startling everyone.  But there were no injuries, and as the screams of alarm died down, the shaking in the floor subsided. 

Nora blinked to take in her fuzzy surroundings, somewhat in a state of shock.  Her glasses had been knocked off of her face, and with her bad eyesight, she couldn't recognize anything around her.  She groped blindly for a few seconds, until she realized that somebody was sitting directly in front of her.  "Umm … here, it might be a little easier if you wear _these,_" said the mystery person.

Nora replaced her glasses, and brushed some dust off of her sweater.  "Phew, thank you very much.  You probably just saved my life … _ulp_!"

Sidney Wakeman was crouched in front of her, with his chocolate brown hair hanging down into his eyes, grinning awkwardly.  "Well … heh-heh … I was just coming over to congratulate you when things started to shake up.  Your 'bright and promising future' almost lasted about three seconds."

Nora stared back at him, too flustered to come up with anything more clever than "Umm … thanks."

"Your robot project is amazing, Nora," he continued.  "You really deserved to win.  You must have worked really hard on it.  Looks like … you didn't need my help after all."

"Thanks, I … "  She did a double-take.  "Wait a minute!  How did you know …"

Now it was Sidney who fumbled for words.  "Well, I … I mean … well, I heard that you were thinking of asking me to help you with your project this week.  I was …" – he gulped, loudly – " … sort of looking forward to it.  But I guess you -"

She could barely believe what she was hearing.  "Whoa, whoa, whoa … hold the phone.  _You_ wanted to work together?"  Her mouth grew dry, and she felt a dozen different types of confusion.  "I don't understand, Sidney.  I thought you wanted to work with Brooke Krust."

"_Brooke_."  Sidney snorted her name, like it was the punch line to a joke.  "Brooke couldn't turn on a light bulb without written instructions.  Yeah, it took me a couple of days, but I finally figured out that Brooke was just using me like a roll of paper towels.  Besides, I only agreed to team up with her because … well … because you've been _avoiding_ me for the past few weeks."

Nora's glasses almost shot right off of her face.  "_Avoiding_ you?  I haven't been …"

Sidney looked down, sheepishly.  "Every time I've seen you in the hall, or the cafeteria, or the library, you run off.  I just figured that you were avoiding me."

And they continued their awkward exchange for a few moments, oblivious to the noisy commotion about them.  Sherman got to his feet, wincing in pain from his clumsiness.  The last thing he remembered was Nora about to get hit by the falling light fixture.  Panic gripped hold of him, and he feared the worst.  He didn't see her standing in front of the tournament board … she was sitting on the floor, next to – _Sidney_!  And to his amazement, they were _laughing_!

Then Sherman's attention was caught by a gurgling, warbling sound – and a series of _clanks_ and _snaps_ that came from the floor.

Jenny was lying in the middle of the arena floor, flat on her back, looking dazed and confused – and looking like her old self again.  Sherman dropped to his knees, with a huge grin on his face.  "Jenny!  Jenny, how do you feel?  Say something!  Are you back to normal?"

She raised a metallic arm to her forehead, but a tired smile broke out on her face.  "Let's put it this way – if you think I'm going to clean up this mess, you're sadly mistaken.  What happened?  Did XJ-Zero win?  Is my mom going to be okay?"

Then she saw the same thing Sherman did.  Sidney got to his feet, dusted off his blue jeans, and extended his hand towards Nora, chuckling.  She grasped it, and immediately her face turned to the color of a tomato.  Jenny grinned a huge grin at a most improbable sight.  _My mother is in love.  I have now officially seen everything._  She felt a swell of warmth inside, as Sidney and Nora smiled and talked with each other.

It was Sherman that snapped her back to reality – that she was a robot from the future stuck in the middle of a packed school gym, and they were _very_ lucky that nobody was paying attention just now.  With her phenomenal abilities restored, Jenny zipped to hide behind the tournament board.  She removed her "disguise" from her storage compartment, and as she struggled back into her green turtleneck, she saw the future copy of Time magazine.  A quick flip to page fifty-three brought a huge wave of relief.  There she was, in full battle mode, saving the space station and the astronauts.  There was no story anywhere about Mogg Industries.  There was _definitely_ no advertisement for the 'Jenny' domestic robot.

A few seconds later, Jenny emerged from behind the board, fully clad in her second-hand sweater, bell-bottoms, gloves and wig.  Sherman was already talking to Nora and Sidney when she walked up to join them, innocently offering congratulations to Nora on her victory.

"Jenny!" beamed Nora.  "I didn't see you anywhere tonight!  I was afraid that you weren't going to show up.  Did you get to see any of the final match?"

"Oh don't worry," she chuckled.  "I caught the whole thing."

"Umm … Jenny, Sherman, I was wondering if I could ask you a favor."  Nora blushed again, and tugged at the collar of her sweater.  "Do you guys have another way to get home?  See, umm … Sidney and I are going to go grab a cup of coffee, once this place clears out a little.  I hope you don't mind …"

"No!" shouted Jenny, a little too quickly.  "That is … of course not, Nora.  I think I shouldn't have any problem coming up with another way home.  You two go enjoy your … _coffee_."  She giggled, and gave her mother a playful wink.  Sidney shuffled his feet nervously behind her, his face beet-red from ear to ear.  Jenny gave him a polite wave, regretting that she wouldn't be able to get to know him.  But now wasn't the time to press her luck.  History was back to the way it was supposed to be, and she was eager to get home to the mom she remembered.

Nora laughed, and then grew serious one more time.  "Jenny, I can't thank you enough for everything you've done for me this week.  I really, really appreciate it.  Will I see you in school on Monday?"

Jenny couldn't help but feel a little sad.  "I don't think so, Nora.  I was only in town this week … to visit family."  Then her eyes twinkled mischievously.  "But I'm pretty sure I'll see you again _someday_."

They said their goodbyes, and then Jenny marched off with a sudden look of fierce determination, making a bee-line for a very nervous old man sitting in the bleachers.  Sherman chased after her, just as she grabbed the collar of the old man's coat and lifted him off of his feet.  Nora couldn't understand why she was so furious with the man who had identified himself as Vinnie Mogg's great-uncle.  She quickly brushed the thought from her mind, though – she had more pleasant things to worry about.  Sidney had mentioned that he'd already bought tickets to tomorrow night's Spring Formal, and since he obviously wasn't going with Brooke, it would be a shame to let the tickets go to waste …

The only people left standing in front of the Robot Roundup tournament board were the mayor and a pair of television reporters.  The mayor dabbed at his large, balding forehead with a folded handkerchief.  Ever the politician, he was always concerned about bad press.  "Dan, Lilian … I hope we can keep the story positive tonight, hmmm?  Tonight is all about the kids and the robots.  There's no need to mention the little episode with the earthquake, now, is there?"

"Are you kidding?" laughed a reporter.  "Another one of these mystery earthquakes strikes, and you think we shouldn't report it?  Gimme a break, mayor."

"But this robot competition was the kick-off event for our 'Technology Town' media blitz," the mayor pleaded.  "It's part of the promotion for the big incorporation ceremonies next month, when all the surrounding towns join Centerville and become a new, larger city.  The new city's motto is going to be 'The Technology Town', to attract new businesses."

"If there's still any town left for them to build in next month," sneered the other reporter.  "We might have to hold the ceremonies in the center of the earth, at this rate."

"Yeah, the whole thing is turning into a joke.  Did you hear the latest one on the radio this morning?"  The reporter gave the mayor a sarcastic smirk.  "They say that the new city's motto shouldn't be the Technology Town.  It should be the 'Tremor Town'."

"Yeah, that's how they're opening their morning show now.  'Welcome to Tremor Town'."

The reporters exchanged a laugh, while the mayor scurried away with his entourage, heading for his limousine.  One of the reporters stopped long enough to grab a drink of water from a hallway fountain.  "Hmmm.  Tremor Town.  Tremorton.  You know, that actually has kind of a ring to it."

* * *

The evening was pitch black, the moon and stars obscured by a layer of overcast.  As they hurtled towards the new suburb, the only lights in the sky were the blue-white flames from Jenny's booster jets.  Sherman hung onto to Jenny's back, clinging to her deployed wings – enjoying the ride of his life.  Phinneas Mogg, on the other hand, was twisting in the wind like a sack of laundry, as Jenny carried him by the scruff of his collar.  They plunged towards the unpaved road at high speed.  Jenny deployed a pair of floodlights from her pigtails, and pulled out of her dive in her usual graceful fashion.  While Sherman punched the air with gusto, Mogg stumbled a few steps, as Jenny shoved him towards the woods.

"Blast it, robot!" he shouted.  "Would you be careful!  You could have broken the repair circuit I've created, and then we'd be stuck here for good!"

But Jenny wasn't in the mood for backtalk.  "Oh yeah?  Well, if you hadn't wrecked the time machine in the first place, then we wouldn't have to _worry_ about fixing it, would we?"  Her neck telescoped outward, bringing her face to within inches of Mogg's stubby nose.  "When we get back home, you are going to be in _sooo_ much trouble.  First you steal my mom's time machine.  Then you deliberately change the past and turn me into a maid-bot.  And then you endanger the whole town with earthquakes!  Ooooh, I'm tempted to just leave you here …"

Mogg backed a few steps away from her.  "Now, now, let's not do anything rash.  I want to go home as much as you do.  I'm sure that once we're all safe and sound back in your mother's lab, and we've had a chance to talk things over, we'll all have a big laugh about the whole thing.  I would _never_ intentionally harm anyone.  Sherman will vouch for me.  Won't you, Sherman?"

Young Sherman Lee tapped his chin, thinking it over.  "Umm, I don't know, Vinnie … I mean, Dr. Mogg.  You're kind of a _jerk_.  I mean … at least in high school, you are."

Jenny folded her arms and shot a nasty glare at Mogg.  "He's kind of a jerk in the future, too."

But their conversation was interrupted by high-pitched shrieks, as a large flock of birds took to the evening skies.  Then another earthquake struck, the strongest one yet.  The ground vibrated and began to soften under their feet.  Trees swayed back and forth, and the forest filled with the crackling sound of branches crashing to the ground.  Jenny, Sherman, and Mogg braced themselves against a large tree, and after another thirty seconds, the shaking dwindled away, and calm returned to the wilderness.

Sherman gasped for breath.  "Wow – up to now, the quakes have all been relatively minor.  But _that_ one was pretty strong!"

"I don't understand it," said Mogg.  "The earthquakes are getting stronger, and they're happening closer together.  But that's not possible … my calculations showed that any gravity disturbances from the time machine would be minimal at most …"

Jenny grabbed Mogg by the shoulders.  "Well, guess what?!?  You must have forgotten to carry the two, or something.  Your calculations were wrong!  You've got to fix the time machine, NOW!"

They rushed a few yards into the woods, to where the Continuum Vortex Generator lay buried in the Earth.  Using her tremendous strength, Jenny lifted the barrel-shaped device out of the soft dirt, and carried it a few yards away to a pile of smooth boulders which could support its weight.  She illuminated the side of the Generator with her floodlights, and Mogg pried off a side panel to examine the insides.  He tapped a few keys to run a diagnostic.  When the results came back, his face grew pale.

"Oh my," he gulped.  "That's why the earthquakes are getting stronger.  The extra-dimensional bottle that contains the artificial black hole is beginning to deteriorate.  I must have underestimated the damage that would be caused by removing the sensors … heh-heh … for Vinnie's robot tank."  He looked over a few more gauges and indicators.  "The damage is irreversible.  We can repair the circuits and perform another time jump.  But we can't repair the bottle.  In five minutes, the bottle is going to fail completely, and the black hole is going to be released into the open."

Jenny nibbled a few metal filings from her fingernails.  "Let me guess.  That would be _bad_."

Mogg grabbed his repair circuit and got to work.  "The black hole would sink into the ground and keep falling until it reached the center of the Earth.  Then it would gradually devour the Earth's core, then the mantle, then the entire planet itself!"

"Wow … I wind up inventing something that destroys the Earth," gulped Sherman.  "Heh-heh.  Sorry."

As Mogg worked frantically to repair the circuits of the Vortex Generator, Jenny stepped away to calm herself.  Sherman followed, and sat down on a fallen log.  In that brief moment of quiet, they had an opportunity to reflect upon the amazing few days they had just gone through, and the amazing adventure they had shared.  Jenny shook her head at the wonder of it all.

"I really wish I had more time to say good-bye, Sherman," she smiled.  "You've been so sweet, with me and my mom – if it weren't for you, well … I'd probably be cleaning a bathtub right now.  Thank you.'

Sherman chuckled at that.  "I should be thanking you, Jenny.  I've gotten a chance to see what the future is going to be like … all the amazing advances that science is going to make.  And I also know that I'll actually get a girlfriend someday.  Heh-heh.  Make sure and say hello to my grandson Sheldon for me when  you get home, will you?"

"Say hello to him yourself," she replied.  "You're still alive in 2074.  In fact, I saw you just before I left."

"You know what the worst thing about this whole week is?" Sherman asked rhetorically.  "I won't be able to tell anyone about it for seventy years."

Jenny grinned, laid a hand on Sherman's shoulder – then she leaned down and gave him a big hug.  His face blushed beet-red, and for a split second, he was the spitting image of his grandson.

"All set to go," shouted Mogg, as he wiped a bead of perspiration from his brow.  "But this is going to be close.  The black hole bottle is continuing to deteriorate – it'll fail completely in three minutes.  The repair circuits are barely holding.  Robot, we have to leave … _now_.  When we arrive in the future, you'll need to dispose of the time machine in a hurry!"

Jenny said good-bye to Sherman one last time, then walked over to take her place next to the silver steel barrel.  Mogg took note of the last time they had left, and set their target as the exact same instant – 5:25 PM, Saturday, March 17, 2074.  Then he activated the repair circuit, and pressed the large red button on the side of the machine.

The capacitors in the Vortex Generator were no longer operating at peak efficiency, and it was taking longer for the coils to build up the necessary power to create a warp in the space-time continuum.  Once again, the familiar high-pitched whine began to build from the inside of the machine, and its steel skin started to glow with the multicolored hue of an energy aura.  Mogg and Jenny held on tight to the fixed handrails – this was bound to be a bumpier ride than the one that brought them here.  Indeed, the body of the Generator was vibrating now, and Jenny didn't remember it doing that the last time –

Then the ground gave way beneath their feet.

A sharp, short earthquake punched through the forest with amazing force.  Jenny gaped at the amazing sight of brown dirt rolling up and down like the surface of the ocean.  Trees shook violently, their quivering branches filling the night air with a deafening hiss.  Small sinkholes formed at random spots through the woods, where the soil was moist.  This was the worst one by far, and it was sure to be noticed on Richter scales across the state –

Sherman was thrown backwards, and fell over a rotting log.  A small sinkhole formed a few feet to his right.  The log shifted, and it rolled a quarter-turn – pinning Sherman's legs to the ground.  He struggled to pull free, but he was held fast by the log's weight.

The same sinkhole weakened the ground underneath a nearby oak tree.  The soil literally fell away from its roots; robbed of a solid foundation, the hundred-foot tree began to topple under its own weight.

Directly towards Sherman's chest.

Jenny gasped in terror before Sherman could even shout.  Instinctively, fire roared from her pigtail-jets, and she blasted into action.  The massive oak tree pivoted towards the ground, picking up speed, seconds away from crushing Sherman into messy paste.  With only inches to spare, Jenny slammed into the falling tree, her arms wrapped around its trunk, and stopped its momentum.  She grunted with all of the strength that she could muster, and heaved it off to the side, where it crashed harmlessly into the dirt.

She was suddenly aware of a blazing white glow behind her.  She turned her head just in time to see a donut of white light shoot out of the top of the Continuum Vortex Generator.  Then it rushed to the ground, filling the forest with a dancing shadows, a spectral light, and a horrific screeching noise accompanied by a clap of thunder.

Then with a final, blinding flash, the time machine vanished into nothingness.

A crisp breeze blew through the trees, as Jenny and Sherman watched a handful of fluttering leaves settle back to earth.  Then everything was perfectly still.

* * *

Concluded in Chapter Ten

* * *


	10. It's All in the Timing

A/N – Wow, I just have to thank everyone out there who has left a review for this story.  It's a huge treat to hear from my regular reviewers, and it's really neat to get one from somebody new.  And whether you've ever reviewed or not, thanks for reading!  As corny as it sounds, I write these stories for two reasons: (1) I enjoy it, and (2) you guys seem to enjoy reading them.  So once again, thanks.

Since someone asked: yes, after this story is finished, the next thing on tap is a pretty major trilogy.  The second and third stories are already done (plot-wise).  I need to finish setting things up in the first story.  As some of you have noted, I like to set up plot pieces in advance.  But that's all coming in a couple of weeks.  For now, sit back, fire up your flux capacitors, and enjoy the final installment of …

* * *

Whack to the Future

A "My Life as a Teenage Robot" Fanfic

Chapter Ten – It's All in the Timing

* * *

Jenny deployed a large saw blade from her arms, and quickly sliced the giant log in half with one swift cut.  The pieces rolled away to either side, freeing Sherman's legs; fortunately, they had been merely pinned, not crushed, and he was able to stand without much difficulty.  That was more than could be said for Jenny.  She felt a deep, sinking sickness within her pumps and motors as the enormity of what had happened started to sink in.  Where the time machine had sat only moments earlier, there was nothing but a circular clearing in the moist forest debris.  The only means of getting back home to her friends and family was gone, and now she was …

"Stuck," she mumbled weakly.  "I'm … stuck in the past … and there's no way home …"

Sherman brushed a few twigs and leaves from his tee-shirt, staring at the empty clearing in front of them.  "Jenny … oh, no … this is all my fault!  If I hadn't been so clumsy …"

Her shoulders slumped, and her pigtails drooped with a low, mournful _whirr_ of her servo motors.  Her face grew incredibly sad.  "I'm never going to see Brad or Tuck or Drew, ever again …"

Sherman snapped his fingers.  "Wait a minute!  Jenny, we're talking about a time machine here.  Look, right now Dr. Mogg is appearing in front of your mom's house, in the year 2074!  When they realize you're not there, they'll just use the time machine to whiz back here, pick you up, and then head on back to the future again!"

Jenny slowly shook her head.  "No they won't.  The machine is nearly busted, remember?  It was only good for one more trip."  Then she gasped, clasping her hands to her mouth.  "And then it's going to collapse and destroy the entire Earth!  Oh, _no_!  My mom and my friends and everyone else on Earth are going to get sucked into a black hole!"

Sherman paced back and forth, beating his fists against his temples, trying to think of a solution.  Maybe there was some way to build another time machine – no, they didn't have the plans or the technology for that.  Maybe they could send a message to the future – possible, but Jenny would still be doomed to live out her years in the past.  She could head out into space, and fly really really close to the speed of light to make time go by super-fast – but that would very unpredictable, it would take an awful lot of power, and she might overshoot her own time …

He suddenly stopped pacing, and grasped her metallic arm.  "Jenny, I think I might have an idea.  I don't know if it'll work or not.  I'm going to need your help – and it's going to take a little time to set up."

Jenny planted her fists on her hips with a deep sigh.  "I don't think that's going to be a problem.  It looks like I have a _lot_ of time on my hands."

* * *

The peace and quiet that had settled over the Wakeman home was shattered as an ethereal halo of light grew in intensity around the time machine.  Wild flickering shadows filled the laboratory, and a dancing orange-purple aura licked the outside of the machine's barrel-shaped body.  Shouts of alarm came from the kitchen, as everyone in the house realized that the time machine was about to begin another leap – an unplanned leap – across the fabric of space-time.  The power circuits of the generator whined higher in frequency, and the time machine prepared to make its jump …

Jenny covered the distance between herself and the time machine in two long strides.  "Turn it off!"

"It can't be turned off, robot," yelled Mogg.  "Now get away before …"

A brilliant donut of white light shot out of the top of the barrel, and expanded over their heads.  Then with nerve-rattling speed, it shot towards the floor, engulfing Jenny, Mogg, and the time machine in a cylinder of blinding white.  Mrs. Wakeman got back from the kitchen just in time to see her daughter and her colleague engulfed in a curtain of light that shone with the brilliance of a miniature star.  Dr. Lee was half a step behind her.  They slammed their hands over their ears, as a concussive blast rocked the living room like a shot from a cannon.  By the time they blinked the dazzling afterimages from their vision, the Continuum Vortex Generator, Phinneas Mogg, and Jenny had all vanished.  All that remained in the center of the lab was a few loose papers twirling in a current of wind.

Mrs. Wakeman clutched her long white hair, aghast at what she'd just seen.  "The time machine!  What in the name of H.G. Wells is going on in here?  Where did Phinneas and XJ-9 …"

But Dr. Sherman Lee wasn't paying attention to his old friend.  He stared at his wristwatch with a look of amazement on his face.  "Unbelievable!  Absolutely unbelievable!  Actual temporal departure time was 5:25:00 PM on Saturday, March 17, 2074 – right down to the second!  Exactly on schedule!"

Mrs. Wakeman arched a confused eyebrow at him.  "Sherman, what in blazes are you …"

"No time!" he shouted.  He grasped her by the arm, and ran for the front door as quickly as his old legs would carry him.  "We have to move quickly, Nora!  I'll explain everything in a few minutes – assuming we live that long!"

They burst through the door, nearly running into Brad, Drew, and Tuck, who were still loitering about in front of the Wakeman house.  Brad slid his hands into his pockets.  "Hey, what's the big emergency, Mrs. W?  Heard the time machine take off.  Where's it headed to this …"

Dr. Lee looked up from his wristwatch, and ran a hand through his unruly gray hair.  "Boys, I'd take a few steps to the left, if I were you.  Looks like it's running a little late – it must be due to the malfunction in the machine's circuitry, or perhaps it's an expression of the uncertainty principle …"

His sentence was interrupted by a blast of light and wind, and they were all blown backwards by a sudden shock wave.  A tiny speck of brilliant light exploded into existence a few yards away from them, and instantly grew into a disk, which raced towards the ground to create a glowing cylinder of perfectly white light.  They shielded their faces from the blinding glare and the rushing blast of air that screamed outward from the middle of the front lawn.  Something seemed different this time.  The loud crack of the shock wave was accompanied by a horrific screeching wail, and the air itself seemed to pulse with a nervous vibration.  Then the cylinder faded away, and there sat the Continuum Vortex Generator, looking like it been beaten to pieces with a baseball bat.  And next to it stood an exasperated Dr. Mogg, clinging to the handrail like a man at the end of a sadistic roller coaster ride.

"Phinneas Mogg!" screamed Mrs. Wakeman, red-faced with fury.  "You took a _joyride_ in my time machine!?!  What on earth were you _thinking_!?!  This is _highly_ unethical behavior from such a noted scientific … wait a minute.  XJ-9 – where is XJ-9!?!"

Dr. Mogg leaned over the barrel of the Vortex Generator, his cheeks a sickly yellow-green.  "Blasted fool robot … she's still back there, Nora.  She's trapped in the year 2004."

Brad's eyes nearly sprang out of his head.  "WHAT!?!  She's stuck in the past!  Mrs. Wakeman, we gotta go back and …"

They were all tossed to the ground, as a violent earthquake resonated outwards from the body of the time machine.  The ground bucked and heaved, and the air was filled with a low staccato rumble, punctuated by the sounds of car alarms and shattering windows.  The shaking oscillated in strength, growing and ebbing, but the overall power of the earthquake was increasing, and rapidly approaching a level that would do serious damage to the city.

Dr. Lee scrambled on his hands and knees, joining Mogg next to the time machine.  He pulled a screwdriver out of his pocket and fought to pry off one of the side panels.  "Just as I suspected!" he shouted, loud enough for both Doctors Mogg and Wakeman to hear.  "The disturbances were being created by an imbalance in the stabilizer ring controls of the magnetic bottle!  Nora, the time machine is going to collapse into a naked singularity in a little over two minutes!"

"You can't let that happen!" shouted Brad.  "We've got to fix it, and go get Jenny!"

"That's not going to be possible!" screamed Dr. Lee, shouting to be heard over the sounds of the heaving earth.  "The damage is even worse than I feared it would be!  When this thing implodes, it'll devour the entire planet!"

Drew managed to get to his feet, as his nanobot body adjusted to absorb the ground vibrations.  "Doc, is there anything I can do?  Maybe I can just _absorb_ the thing!  Let the nanobots eat it before …"

Mrs. Wakeman's face ran pale, and she wrapped an arm around Tuck to shield him from a falling rain gutter.  "Andrew, there is an _artificial black hole_ inside of it!  It would consume you long before your nanobots could consume it!!!  Sidney, are you certain that you cannot repair the damage!?!"

A look of extreme tension gripped Sidney's face, as he struggled with the inside of the time machine under impossible working conditions.  "I don't think so!"  He gestured wildly towards Brad and Drew, waving them over.  "You two!  Get over here!  Here, here, take this!"

Brad and Drew fought back their terror and confusion, and stumbled a few yards to kneel down next to Dr. Lee.  The old man fished in his pocket for a second, and then pulled out … a key.

He pointed towards the large steel box that they had unloaded earlier from the university truck.  It still sat in the middle of the front lawn, untouched by anyone since Dr. Lee had informed them that it contained dangerous material.  "This key unlocks that big silver box!  Open it!"

Brad took the key in his hand, looking even more scared.  "You mean the box covered with the 'Danger – Lethal Radioactivity' stickers?  Are you _sure_?"

Another violent quake shuddered through the ground, as if a belligerent giant had just punched the earth with a mighty fist.  Dr. Lee grabbed Brad by his shirt sleeve.  "Get it open, _now_!  It's our only hope!"

As Mogg and Lee scrambled with their tools, trying to stave off impending disaster, Brad and Drew crouched down and ran across the rolling lawn, taking just a moment to marvel at the bizarre sight of dozens of cars bobbing up and down like ducks on a pond.  Streetlights waved back and forth like giant jungle ferns.  Fire hydrants exploded into hundred-foot-tall water fountains.  The teenage boys dropped to their knees in front of the long, rectangular steel case.  It looked very sturdy, very durable, and very dangerous; its top was covered with numerous yellow warning labels and HAZMAT information.  They exchanged an uneasy glance.  "I don't know if this is a good idea," said Drew.

Dr. Lee screamed at the top of his voice.  "OPEN IT!"

Brad grasped the padlock and turned the key.  The boys gathered their nerves, then simultaneously swung the lid open.  It took more effort than they had expected.  There was a loud hissing rush of air, and they realized that the big silver box must have been vacuum-sealed.

Lying in the silver box was a metallic silver cocoon, surrounded by custom-fitted foam padding.  Drew reached in to touch it, and found that it was made of a thin metal foil, similar to the kind used to package electronics.  He would have no trouble getting it open.  He lifted a single finger, which briefly warbled a silver-green color, and grew into a long, sharp blade.  With one quick, smooth motion, he sliced the cocoon lengthwise, and it split open …

Drew and Brad stared into the steel box, stupefied beyond the ability to think.

Lying in the middle of the shredded metallic foil was a six-and-a-half foot robot girl, painted a familiar white and pale blue, resting in blissful robotic slumber.  Her chest plate was split open, and a single video display sat in the middle of her torso, gently beeping and flashing its diagnostic message:  "Time Remaining: 00 years, 00 months, 00 days, 00:00:03."  The numbers continued clicking down to two, then, one, then the screen blanked out and displayed the message "Sleep Mode Terminated."

The steel container filled with the gentle humming of motors and pumps carefully warming up to speed.  The video display folded, and retracted into the chest cavity.  Memory circuits activated, and the operating system booted itself up.  Then her metallic eyelids fluttered for a moment, and with a soft whirr of her servos, they slowly slid open.

Jenny sat up and stretched her arms high above her head, letting loose a long, drawn out yawn.  She blinked a few times, then broke into a broad smile at the sight of Brad and Drew's dumbfounded expressions.  The poor guys had no clue what was going on.

She had to grab the edge of the steel container to steady herself, as another vicious series of tremors rocked through the earth.  Jenny lifted herself out of her sleeping chamber, and the boys grabbed her arms to help her get to her feet.  Dr. Lee waved to get her attention, and gestured towards the critically malfunctioning time machine.  He did not need to give her any instructions; they were both aware of what needed to be done.  All he shouted was, "Sixty seconds!  Maybe less!"

Jenny steadied herself against Brad's shoulder, and rushed to complete her warm-up sequence.  Her pigtails rotated to flight mode, and she hovered a few feet above the ground, balanced on twin blue flames.  Then she wrapped her arms around the silver barrel of the Vortex Generator.  Her power levels hadn't recovered to one hundred percent yet, but she didn't have time to wait.

With a slight creak and a moan, her booster jets unfolded from her back, and she blasted into the skies, leaving six amazed spectators behind her on the front lawn.  She could feel the body of the time machine start to contract in her arms, growing smaller and smaller, even as its apparent weight grew heavier and heavier.  The exotic bottle that stored the black hole was beginning to fail, and she needed to get it away from town – and the planet – as quickly as possible.  Summoning what little reserve power she had, she tripled the thrust from her engines, and shot out of Earth's atmosphere like a missile.

But even this wasn't far enough.  She poured on the speed, wincing in discomfort as the distorting gravity waves from the black hole grew stronger and stronger.  The Vortex Generator, once larger than an oil drum, had collapsed down to the size of a watermelon.  In her current weakened state, the best speed that Jenny could manage was three hundred miles per second.  It would have to do.  She started spinning herself at a fantastic rate, until she transformed into a barely-visible blue-and-white blur, and aimed for a spot in space, up and out of the solar system.

She hurled the Vortex Generator as hard as she could, seconds before it underwent a final implosion, turning into a small but nasty black hole.  But there was nothing around for the black hole to eat; no planets, no moons, and no robots.  So it would forever stay small, as it traveled through the desolate, interstellar void.  It would wander harmlessly through empty space for millions of years.

The flash of energy from the implosion quickly dissolved away, and since a black hole was invisible, there was nothing else left to see.  Jenny sighed with relief, and made a large, looping turn back towards the beautiful blue-and-white Earth at a leisurely pace.  Even from this far out, her telescoping eyes could make out the city limits of Tremorton, thousands of miles below.  Home never looked so good.

* * *

Mrs. Wakeman was as amazed as the rest of them, but she responded true to a scientist's nature.  She was giving all of Jenny's moving parts and joints a once-over, wearing a ridiculous-looking headpiece with stacks of magnifying lenses locked in place over her eyes.  She ran a glowing purple scanning rod back and forth over her daughter's pale blue leg housings, muttering with fascination as she analyzed the data.  Normally a full checkout, especially on a Saturday evening, would have Jenny pouting in disgust.  But as she flexed her shoulder joint, Jenny had to admit that she could use a tune-up right now.

"Have you ever noticed that when you have a really long sleep, you actually feel more tired when you wake up, not less?" she chuckled.

"Yeah, I hate when that happens," laughed Brad.  "It feels like your head is filled with cotton balls …"

Drew had been standing with a frozen expression of bewilderment on his face for a few minutes now.  Finally, he shot his arms in the air.  "So what the heck just happened here?"

Dr. Sherman Lee eased his hands into the pockets of his white lab smock with a tired smile.  "When we realized that Jenny was trapped in the year 2004, we tried to think of another way to send her into the future.  Then I realized that I'd been looking at the problem the wrong way.  Since Jenny is a robot, and doesn't age, she could travel into the future the easy way … by simply waiting for seventy years."

"Wait wait wait," said Tuck, trying to come to grips with his own confusion.  "So you've known Jenny since you were fifteen years old, back in the year 2004?"

"Pretty strange, hmm?"  A broad smile brightened the doctor's wrinkled face.

"But why didn't you say anything to her earlier today?" puzzled Tuck.  "Didn't you recognize her?"

"Of course I recognized her.  I even felt mischievous enough to tell her 'I've been waiting to meet you for a long time!'  But that's all I dared to do.  After all, she didn't know me – yet.  And I could not take even the slightest risk that I might alter future events by my actions; that would create a time paradox.  It was of critical importance that Jenny and Mogg took their trip on the time machine, seventy years into the past.  Actually, sixty-nine years, nine months, and twenty-three days."

Drew blinked a few more times.  "So what the heck just happened here!?!?"

Brad was trying to keep up too.  "But how did Jenny get in the steel box?  I mean … she was outside with us when we took the box off the truck.  How did she get inside?"

"She was already inside," grinned Dr. Lee.  "Back in 2004, Jenny helped me construct an airtight container – just big enough for her to go to sleep in.  With a little work, we set up a simple alarm clock program in her software.  Just before I wrapped her up in the protective foil, we set her alarm clock to wake her up exactly on March 17, 2074 at 5:26 PM.  Then I sealed the container, and covered it with warning labels to make sure that nobody would ever open it.  I had some friends at the university back then, and we arranged to have the box kept in the Physics Department storage area.  Jenny's been sleeping in that box for almost seven decades.  And I simply had to remember to have her brought here today.  I guess I can take that Post-It Note off the fridge, now."  He chuckled at his little joke.

Dr. Wakeman's head perked up.  "Sherman, I'm flabbergasted!  All these years, you've kept this a secret – you're a credit to scientists everywhere.  Unlike that _miscreant_ Phinneas."  Dr. Mogg had made his escape shortly after Jenny had flown into space with the Vortex Generator.  "Ooooh, when the board at the university hears about this on Monday …"

Drew's arms were tracing timeline patterns in the air, as if that would help him understand the amazing story.  "So all this time that we've known Jenny, there's been _another_ Jenny sleeping in a metal container in the basement of the university …"

Dr. Lee nodded, and Drew continued.  "… and when I carried the box off of the truck, Jenny was inside, but she was standing right next to me too … and this means that Jenny is seventy-five years old now."  His eyes started to spin in their sockets.  "Oh, man, I think I just broke my brain."

"All right, I think that's enough," announced Mrs. Wakeman, feeling the need to reassert authority over her laboratory.  "Everybody out … shoo, shoo, shoo.  I need to replace all of XJ-9's fluids, gaskets and filters, and the last thing I need is a crowd of rubbernecking spectators.  You can all come back tomorrow.  Shoo, now!  Go!"

The boys shuffled towards the front door.  "All right, Mrs. W, see you later," grinned Brad.  Then he waved to Jenny.  "See you later, old timer."

"Ha, ha," she sneered, shooting him a sarcastic look.

"Hey, next time we go to the movies, you can get the senior discount."

"BRAD!!!"

And with that, the boys ducked outside, still shaking their heads in disbelief.  It had proven to be a very unusual hour out of their lives.  To Jenny, of course, the adventure had seemed to last almost a week.  But most amazingly of all … to Sherman … it had lasted most of his life.

Jenny reached over and took old Sherman's hand, his skin creased with fine wrinkles.  The last time she had seen him, his face had been speckled with pimples; now, in what seemed to be only minutes later, those pimples had been replaced by liver spots.  But there was still a twinkle of boyish energy in his dark, smiling eyes.  And it didn't take too much imagination to see the clumsy teenager with jet-black hair drooping over his forehead.

She gave him a warm smile.  "I don't think I can ever thank you enough, Sherman … er, Dr. Lee."

"Oh, please … it'll always be Sherman for you," he chuckled.  "And besides, I really haven't done that much for the past sixty-nine years – except wait.  Now, I'd best be heading along, too."

"You must come back tomorrow morning, Sherman," said Mrs. Wakeman.  "We really must document our experiences, for scientific posterity.  Plus, I know you can't resist a freshly baked batch of tea biscuits with blackberry marmalade."

"And we'll even warm up a can of Coke for you," laughed Jenny.

Dr. Lee had to laugh at that.  "Yes to the biscuits, no to the warm Coke.  I haven't been able to handle stuff like that for quite a while, I'm afraid."  He waved a final farewell, and closed the door behind him.

Leaving Mrs. Wakeman and her robot daughter alone together, for what was sure to be a long, tedious night of very thorough maintenance.  The doctor picked out a power screwdriver, and opened up an access panel on Jenny's right leg.  "I have to admit, XJ-9, you and Sherman did a spectacular job protecting your body from the elements in that steel enclosure.  There's no corrosion, no wear or tear … you've been kept in pristine condition.  All quite remarkable, when you consider what you've been through."

"I guess so …"  Jenny pondered her amazing experience.  "Wow, the freaky thing is that it didn't feel like anything special to me.  I went to sleep, and I woke up.  No biggie."

"Well, you'll have to tell me about it tomorrow," said Mrs. Wakeman, as she removed a rubber seal from Jenny's leg.  "Perhaps when Dr. Lee comes over in the morning."

"Oh, there's plenty to talk about _before_ tomorrow," said Jenny.

Her mother raised a suspicious eyebrow.  "There is?"

Jenny gave her mother a wicked grin.  "For starters, you can tell me all about what you and Sidney did at the Spring Formal.  After all, you two made quite the _romantic couple_ at the Robot Roundup."

Now her mother had a perplexed expression on her face.  "Eh … wha?  Spring Formal …"

Then Dr. Wakeman nearly jumped out of her shoes.  "Gadzooks!  But that was … but how would … but I was only … er, now, now, XJ-9, let's try and stay focused on your repairs if we can …"

Jenny's grin grew wider.  "And tell me who that 'Christina Aguilera' person was on your bedroom wall poster.  She sure didn't look like a scientist to me!"

"Christina … _ulp_!"  Now the doctor was starting to sweat a little.  "Well … er … you see, things were a little different back when …"

"Did you really want to spend your prize money on a _nose job_?" giggled Jenny.

Dr. Wakeman slumped down in a chair, her face a brilliant crimson, and tugged at the collar of her black turtleneck.  Her daughter was rolling with laughter.  This might prove to be a very long night, _indeed_.

* * *

THE END

* * *


End file.
